“Answers are no benediction, let them be” he states urgently.
“but I must have them”, she retorts resolutely, ” even if I die, I must know”
“so be it”, he agrees resignedly.
They arrange themselves in age old patterns. As the sun rises over the hills, the rituals come to the end, only to be started the next day. Slowly,  the words overwhelm them as they are created , amplified and then absorbed. This was as it was meant to be.
Then the fire was lit.
It was time.
They say, she was never the same again. Answers were a responsibility that had sagged the best of shoulders.
And hers was too delicate.
To be consumed without can be treated but she had consumed fire within. This had no cure.

The torments of hell palled in comparison. Truth had no compassion but it was not ruthless either. Its indifference cowered her.


11 thoughts on “Answers.

  1. Credulous was he, stark naked his soul and told her to be near him, close to him. Neither to protect nor to caress but to comfort, to just hold close. But his imperfections challenged his passions, both fought in a battle hard and gory, and finally the imperfections wore the winner’s crown beating the love hands down. Love limped and dragged, badly trodden, all alone . . all forsaken . . yes love was imperfect and love didn’t have some answers.

  2. i think we dont get any answers if we tend to be something that we are accustomed ,may be due to harsh realities that happened past and in a way to counteract that we remain self preventive from the joy of the moment,,ie present

  3. Beautiful!
    Truth is indifference itself! And yes, we sometimes cannot shoulder the answers that we find!
    I am falling more and more in love with your writing and wish I had more time to also go through your archives in detail!
    They are a true inspiration for me to constantly improve my style!

Humor me please? *winks*

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