A cage with an open door,
a sting that sires the souls.
An invisible arrow,
an involuntary will.
The reflection in the mirror
that we always paint with wings
The warmth in the eye,
the wildest heartbeat.
Because you can kill the lovers,
but the love will always live.
Fed up of his husband’s negativity, Mrs. Murphy has decided to leave him. No hard feelings, she knows she’s lucky. She has a good figure (built while exercising to pick up the toasts), and a good health, the only weapons in their divorce were just sharp words. And after all, she knows that Mr. Murphy is a good (negative but good) man, that turned out not to be her man.
And is not that psychological wounds don’t hurt, but she often wonders, why some marriages which start as beautifully as that picture, end up by the very cliché “till death do as part”. Mostly, her death by his hands…
I know there are also bad women (as the song says), but anyway they are always less bloody, and it takes longer to have the desired effect. I’ll explain it somehow. Woman is the water that slowly erodes the stone, man instead is which penetrates it, freezes and breaks it, even before he had time enough to know if that was the rock he really wanted. The difference is that the eroded stone stays, and the broken one cannot be mended, to the detriment of both of them, water (frozen or not) and rock.
Anyway, and no matter the genre, imprisoning your love one (or who you think is your love one), is never a good idea. Because gentlemen, love is the only cage that retains the most with an open door. Always bear in mind that love suffocates if it doesn’t breathe freedom.
This defiant flame that burns in the rain is a will that sires the souls, an acceptance of the wonders and the miseries of a human being.
You can prevent somebody from leaving you, but you cannot definitely force anyone to love you, because love is an involuntary act of will. It’s an invisible arrow and it chooses you.
You decide whether to stay or to runaway, but you don’t choose whom or when. Anyway you can always control your behaviour, and if you’re not loved in return, you can sit down and wait for the feeling to disappear
Because believe me, if you don’t feed them, feelings vanish. With a little patience you’ll end up by understanding that is not a fight for control or a matter of who is worth it, it’s much more that this person wasn’t meant to be “your person”.
And while waiting for your wounds to heal, you can spend time getting to know yourself, which by the way is a good purpose for a whole existence. And maybe one day you’ll find out, by looking at the mirror, the reflection you’ve been waiting for. Because the one must be somehow your reflection
Nowadays nobody dies for love, but how many women are murdered every day? And I wouldn’t dare to say that they’re killed because of love…
That’s the greatness of love, you could take a life, but nothing can stop this wild, delicious heartbeat at the sight of your beloved, or make it happen where it’s not meant to be.
That’s why we paint it with wings, because you could kill the lovers, but the love would always live.
PS – Gentlemen pick up your toasts. For several reasons: your grateful wives will be more receptive to your needs; and you’ll exercise, with benefits for your health and figure. Because believe me sirs, if there’s something even less sexy that a beer belly, that must be laziness.
On behalf of Mrs. Murphy have a happy Valentine’s Day.
And is not that psychological wounds don’t hurt, but she often wonders, why some marriages which start as beautifully as that picture, end up by the very cliché “till death do as part”. Mostly, her death by his hands…
I know there are also bad women (as the song says), but anyway they are always less bloody, and it takes longer to have the desired effect. I’ll explain it somehow. Woman is the water that slowly erodes the stone, man instead is which penetrates it, freezes and breaks it, even before he had time enough to know if that was the rock he really wanted. The difference is that the eroded stone stays, and the broken one cannot be mended, to the detriment of both of them, water (frozen or not) and rock.
Anyway, and no matter the genre, imprisoning your love one (or who you think is your love one), is never a good idea. Because gentlemen, love is the only cage that retains the most with an open door. Always bear in mind that love suffocates if it doesn’t breathe freedom.
This defiant flame that burns in the rain is a will that sires the souls, an acceptance of the wonders and the miseries of a human being.
You can prevent somebody from leaving you, but you cannot definitely force anyone to love you, because love is an involuntary act of will. It’s an invisible arrow and it chooses you.
You decide whether to stay or to runaway, but you don’t choose whom or when. Anyway you can always control your behaviour, and if you’re not loved in return, you can sit down and wait for the feeling to disappear
Because believe me, if you don’t feed them, feelings vanish. With a little patience you’ll end up by understanding that is not a fight for control or a matter of who is worth it, it’s much more that this person wasn’t meant to be “your person”.
And while waiting for your wounds to heal, you can spend time getting to know yourself, which by the way is a good purpose for a whole existence. And maybe one day you’ll find out, by looking at the mirror, the reflection you’ve been waiting for. Because the one must be somehow your reflection
Nowadays nobody dies for love, but how many women are murdered every day? And I wouldn’t dare to say that they’re killed because of love…
That’s the greatness of love, you could take a life, but nothing can stop this wild, delicious heartbeat at the sight of your beloved, or make it happen where it’s not meant to be.
That’s why we paint it with wings, because you could kill the lovers, but the love would always live.
PS – Gentlemen pick up your toasts. For several reasons: your grateful wives will be more receptive to your needs; and you’ll exercise, with benefits for your health and figure. Because believe me sirs, if there’s something even less sexy that a beer belly, that must be laziness.
On behalf of Mrs. Murphy have a happy Valentine’s Day.
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