Les desesperes

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The maestro had lost his way in the Anima Numdi.

And whilst playing jazz on his own in contemplation of what was left of his life and some of the music keys that still sang right, he kept on thinking how empty the journey was.
But simply too tired was he to change things otherwise.
In vain, he had been consumed by the loss of the one he once loved and possibly the only true thing he had ever been determined to have once but could never acquire again in this lifetime.

But most extraordinary and sad of all, in the present tale which I now recall, the man behind the curtain and whom I met by no existing chance, resembled no mere hero but a flamboyant Ares that rightfully possessed the delirium fire within.
He was the image of an impregnated d’Artagnan full of life and ready for combat.
Yet, he was barely but a simple man of our ages, blessed enough with all the required qualities true men of this time need to be able to turn wrong into right; but all of which, in truth, he could never willed so to attain without that which he had once known and lost. For it was, to put it quite simply, “the missing spear” secretly coveted.

And many earthy pleasures had he exhausted within the darkest abyss of life, in an attempt to bring back to remembrance that which he once felt or perhaps forget forever so its name and existence.

But nothing, absolutely nothing could quiet down his insatiable yet magnanimous soul.
Regrets and sorrow had overcome the ‘living of the moment’ long gone…

And of the exactitude of the thing which rendered him so much emptiness and desperation and which he sought for so long, no one knew with certitude what or who it was. Some say it was a woman, whom he once met in the new world. Others will disagree and say the wealth driven and prerogative of what the family wants you to be from birth simply empowered every single little thing he ever wanted to become and more importantly acquire on his own…

On the fourteen year of the second millennium, the maestro, tired of combatting some fake causes he could only care for a while, revered his hat for the last time and decided to leave this plane at last.

And thus came about the story of Tariq, by his birth name, who had indeed given up the train of life and decided to take what he hoped would be another ride, another chance, on the other side…

Sophie Parou
Novelist

Effervescence of the inner world…

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You are the prettiness of a self made illusion of my own.
And in the arising picture of that place which belongs to the future but which will find its source from this present line, you are now no longer the ghost of petty minutiae of my past but the green velvet clothed king of the parlor of my desert caravanserai.
You are no longer a taker for you have become a giver.
Black has faded into white, the color of all earthy colors.
And by an invisible yet most spectacular miracle, you have finally understood that in truth we’ve all suffered and that the greatest truth of all is that it is through love that we shall heal and that in true love coexists no betrayal!
And as I contemplate the sea of our world, I know though you are merely but the echo of a self made fairy tale of my own.
Yet for now, you are the constellation of my inner world who has now reflected on the outside…

Credit: pic by Fractale75

When they whisper

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Oh angels of abundance and those of pure giving wisdom;
Angels of peace and those of clemency and love;
Angels of protection, vision and intelligence and all of the others that reside within the Kingdom of Thee.
At once, i wish to be given the name of the creature of light that follows me when the hour of the day is at its highest and commensurately when the hour of the night is at its darkest!

Dialogue of two lovers

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Under the first light of a new day,  Juliette once said:
“O’ my Romeo You say love is everything,
I say, ‘the great feeling’ needs the arms to hold it still!
You say you are all power and powerful,
I say, the climax of all power is when you learn to compile yours to another!
You say all are equal,
I say, the rebirth of equality can only happen if the man wholly accepts and proud himself when seeing the Joan of Arc within his beloved climb the way !
For isn’t our present world, the abode of men ?
You say life’s best plan of two lovers bears no underlying plan,
I say, the greatest plan of all always carries a preceding vision and far can the vision take them both indeed!
You say freedom is at the heart of all conflicts of love,
I say, poor in understanding is the one who hasn’t seen that freedom itself is ultimately brought by love!”