There is this issue of love and man
Perhaps god made love to show that he can?
And then he brought in the lovers and their heart
He told them his wish…love..
..my children, never part
Bud did he prepare them for the labour of love?
The agony, the pain, the upheaval of trust?
Pray, did he give a hint at all,
To the lovers and their heart..
About the mighty fall?
Nothing was told,
They were not fore warned
To bear the burden..
Would not be easy at all

Obscure Battles that are won everyday...

"I’m weak and ungrounded, the accident didn’t leave me with much to go on with. All hope was lost, all self resolve, all forms of resilience gone. Each day was a long journey of survival, every breath an effort of protest against the urge to give in to the abyss of loss. Every step I took came after much deliberation, and hesitation, it was accompanied with constant foreboding of doom. The fear of failure to walk was always at the back of my head. It impaired every move I made, it made me lose hope in myself. The days would float by, without much from me to it, and without much to it from me.
The passive existence continued. The hope would come one day and encourage me to conquer the fear and start anew, yet sometimes it would elude me for days at a stretch. The days it engulfed me, life seemed to have given me another chance. The days it went absconding, I wanted to crawl back to the beginning of existence or perhaps the end of it. I was broken at places I hadn’t even realized. I was broken in my belief in myself. I was broken in my belief in existence. I was broken in the perception of life. I would cling on to anything that promised to get me a step ahead. I believed I needed this support to learn to crawl back into the race. Somedays help came, other days I waited by the window, I called out its name, I even begged, yet it decided to stay away. Soon, I stopped waiting. I decided to inch back into the game by myself. I was tired of waiting for a miracle, a rescue mission. It started then, the recovery.
Soon, I was trying hard to live. Striving to move. Striving to be more than a breath. The motion and the breeze were my heroes, I sought inspiration from them. I was walking again. I could feel the wind in my hair. I started dreaming. Hope and fear stopped being quirky then. I knew they were not my enemies anymore. I wasn’t ready for the final race yet. Baby steps were all I could do. Then came the aftershocks. I wasn’t ready. The defense wasn’t in place, the gameplan wasn’t final just yet. I was broken again, the blow split me up. I lost my brace and suddenly found myself back in the abyss from where I’d just emerged. But this time I recovered faster. I’d been there before. It was familiar. I knew what was to be done.
I’m not perfect still, my insides are still weak from all those falls but I know, the next time when I fall again, I’ll be up faster than before, and then one day I’ll just stand the fall out."