It’s the last ride before the rising tide, my last endeavour with you. ‘Escapade’ or ‘escape’ would aptly describe it. I can hear the devils voice inside, “all aboard the ship for any who can afford it. You pay in time, no refunds, no exchange.” Something trembles inside that I think I’ve decided to name ‘hope.’ It is the sinews of love, it ventures where my reasons desist.
That voice again, “attention attention, may I have your intention? Are you travelling for business or pleasure?”… Like I know?! Love is simply the name I give to feelings which I find neither good nor bad, yet immensely powerful and unexplainable. How many great and intelligent men still receive bloody noses when they try to bare arms against love? Better men then me I admit.
A catalyst to action, it is a feeling that if expressionless is pointless. But there is a limit, I don’t mind waiting, but I’m not chasing. Love is elevated on stilts of hope, but they are only tooth picks. They’ll break if the weight is too much, if the wait is too long.
All tied up within finite boundaries, love is but a matter of time. “Fair princess, fair enough.” I will give her time, for how many doctors patients came around by lack of patience? In time she will be mine, or on my feelings this devil may dine.
