And my weapon.

It was raining when you looked me in the eye. Your presence makes me feel the best and the worst about myself. You are beautiful in peculiar ways. You are not handsome. You are not good looking either. You are just you who makes me feel things that I can’t really comprehend. I have loved you and I continue you to love you so much. But we are not meant to be, can you see it? I have been seeing it for the longest time and there is terrible looking thing called hope in between us binding us through invisible threads of time. But I see them breaking, one atom at a time. It is scary so as to how much I want to feel your heart thump against my ear and how much I want to choke you with my hands and let go of your love.
Whenever I said that you have hurt me, all you said was that it was just a bit of love. Darling does love hurts? I have been told that only allowing you in the walls of the temple will hurt and there’ll be river of red flowing but there are oceans of saline water creating waves while the heart bleeds nothing but love.

The ones who love us really know how to hurt us.

We are closer than ever yet so far apart.
I am lost in this Galaxy, don’t try to find me. I will be the star burning so bright that the light will be the cause of the death. Darkness is my prey.

And love, my weapon.

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​Can a Soul be Sad and yet not Dark?

Yes. And no. Honestly I do not know. Because souls are beings. They define our very existence. Souls are neither happy nor sad. Souls are just souls. Souls are life and a proof that we are alive to feel the emotions of sadness and happiness. Darkness is an attribute we associate with emotions of sadness, jealousy, envy while happiness, bliss and laughter are the light in our lives but two contradicts can very well coexist. How I cannot explain but you can feel them. Being sad doesn’t make you a dark human or a dark soul because a sad person either gives up on life and commits suicide or he uses his sadness to create art. Art that will be so powerful and passionate that it will make you feel uncomfortable. Dark poets are always celebrated yet criticised. Paradox? Irony? Maybe. Because some things are so intertwined that it’s impossible to pinpoint. Fascinating are those that radiate sunshine through their wounds of hurt and sadness. And divine is this thought that gives meaning to art and life. 
My dear, souls cannot be dark, souls cannot be sad. Souls can only be drunk. How? Ask the Nightingales.