Interpretation Of Dreams

It was a pleasant Friday evening. End of day's play or rather end of a week's play at office and two guys were looking forward to a stress free weekend. A weekend minus deployment issues, minus the code fixes, minus meeting deadlines and minus the constant nagging that came along with the need to meet deadlines. It had been a tough week at office with late nights being the only constant. The week dragged on and on and just didn't seem to end. Therefore the Friday had come as a welcome relief.

The guys were planning the weekend while climbing down the stairs. They usually did that on Fridays, a mark of their happiness. They got out of the main gate of the building and one of the two stout oncoming guys suddenly threw a nasty punch on one the guys. The attack had taken them off guard. (It's only a psychological to consider the "off guard" treatment of the situation because they couldn't have done a thing even if the assault had been prognosticated). The receiver lost his footing and was on the ground hurt,scarred and scared.

He could see another side of the road and he had a choice. To stay or to run away.

Amid-st fear and apprehension, the victim raging with anger got up and raced toward the guy to get back at him. The man was waiting, as if to measure the density of material of the guy's balls before he made his next move. And before the guy knew, he was on the ground again pummeled right across his face by the forward thinking attacker. The flow of tears of pain had been stemmed thus far because of rage, but the pain suddenly took effect and the flow now started.  

The other guy had become numb. He didn't in fact couldn't say or do a thing in protest, too frightened to think.

With tears flowing, the guy somehow go and and tried again to get back at his attacker. Again, he was just waiting and another punch in the stomach this time. The end result was the same. The pain, the flow of tears, the fear and somehow the anger only increased. He got back up and tried kicking him this time for a change. The feeble attempt of a kick failed to move the Goliath like  man up against him and a hardest yet punch right on his nose was he outcome.

This continued, the cat and mouse game. The only constants were the victim falling but somehow just getting up again. By this time the friend had regained some of his senses and waited a while thinking, "this would be the last, not the last punch but the last fightback or rather a last tame try at a tame fightback". But that didn't seem to be happening. Blood followed as to accompany the solitary tears falling by themselves. The flow of blood wasn't stemming and neither the onslaught of punches.
This is when fear of his friend's death got to his friend.
"Chhod na yaar, jaane de bhai"  
"Let go"
"Please bhai chhod de, jaane de yaar." Came the beseeching cries.

The next punch rendered the guy unconscious and the friend made a sudden movement towards him to comfort him. The other guy who had come with him held him back and suddenly the victim had a rush of blood and threw a punch on the face of the attacker with all the ferocity and strength that he had. The sight of blood from the nose of the attacker gave peace to his soul. He fell. But this time he had irked the attacker and a fatal onslaught killed him. Yes, the guy died there.

The death woke me up. Yes, it was dream! Story of life, isn't it?
Death is the ultimate end. Isn't it?
Then, what is the point of taking it in your face and standing up time and time again only to eventually fall?!

He could have ran the other way and somehow the friend would have been left alone. Wouldn't he?
He wasn't even touched until he tried to make a movement to help his fallen friend. And even the 'touch' wasn't half as ferocious as the 'meek' attempted kick at the attacker by his friend.
He could have given up. He could have moved on. He could have lived with being 'beaten' (beaten in life in a broader spectrum).
He could have and probably should have. That is what logic and rationale state anyway.

So why didn't he?
This was my dream so I take the liberty to interpret it the way I want to.
Being beaten was not in his framework, in his structure.
Vulnerable state that he was in, he did what he knew. He knew not to give up.
Vulnerable states, like I have already stated are opportunities to dive into your depths and figure out the make up of your internal structure. Holding on to the structure gave peace to his soul and isn't that what everyone is looking for. He could cheat with himself even if it meant meeting fatality.

Expounding further, let's get into a little more depth.

Often when you fail, there is advice flying  "of making the mistake on the right side", "of things not meant to be" , "of  having given your all and thus looking forward" ,"OF MOVING ON".
If you gave your all, how could you move on?
The above statement might sound ridiculous because we are so averse to not moving on and so accustomed to moving on that it almost sounds ridiculous. Wait, think again!
If you thought you could, why did you think otherwise after a 'roadblock'. Conversely if you did move on, you never really 100% thought you could, simply because you didn't hold out.
Often there is loose talk about things not meant to be. And often our judgment is clouded by external opinions who we think know more than us. Again, if we change where we stand against what we strongly think and feel, only people being cheated are us.
So when he died trying, he died hopeful; hopeful of turning around a very nasty situation. How many of us can say the same about our dreams?  

What is that one quintessential aspect to living?

Yes, the oxygen, food , water and shelter crap that we all know about. Is all of this enough to keep you going in life? To fight for our dreams, to stand up for what we think is right?
Hope!
The hope that one day you will.
We die the day the fire of hope in lives extinguishes. Hope is the starting pad, and hope is what keeps you going.

The best aspect of  this dream of mine was that the guy died hopeful, happy! He stayed true to his soul.

P.S. These is my interpretation of the dream, interpreted in coherence with my beliefs and internal structure. May or may not be that way for everyone.

Success and Extremism

Extremists are people whose way of thinking is different from a general status quo. Most of the time it is contrary to the existing line of accepted notions.

There are phases in such lives when nothing seems to matter. No words, no abhorrence, no negligence and no wounds stop them from doing what they want to do. And there are times when nothing stops them from doing absolutely nothing.

These are two extremes of the 'same' pole. 

I think, it takes lesser time to cross over from one extreme to another than to move from somewhere around the middle to the top. Stories of absolute louts, college dropouts making it big in life are not uncommon. These people exist at the extremes of the pole.

For the ones who are at the center of the pole, the price they have to pay for, either the joy of achieving something or completely failing, over overcoming inertia is way too large; something that does not fit into their cloister of mediocrity.

They live by the rules, always accepted, always 'correct', always safe!

The scenario is quite different for the extremists; they walk a really tight rope; a foot here and a hand there and they are already in the midst of a free fall.

First, they are the subject of intense scrutiny. A foot wrong and they are martyrs. Second, they are victims of an ongoing battle with self for something called ‘Perfectionism’ which is more of a necessity than a choice. It is probably more of a necessary evil(?) as it goes hand in hand with being an extremist.

Perfection in the way of thinking, in the way of living and most importantly perfection in being themselves (A big task! The ones who have tried will know). The obsession of being the best and different from the milieu always comes at a price. For if they achieve a goal it is ‘their’ ‘God given gift’; their intelligence that carried them through. Imagine a scenario of a total failure; fight the world, build a dream, work your ass off, always walk a tight rope and lose your balance just short of the destination (Alas!). But that came as part of the package you chose when you decide to be on the sides than in the middle.

In adherence to the tried, tested and up till now trusted modes of living lies the secret of their success. The mistake that most people make in times of failure is a sudden shift of focus.For once, they get pulled into their own cloister of mediocrity. Self respect becomes narcissism; the ideals of living now seem ‘Utopian’ and the philosophy of ‘Hope never dies’ changes to nihilism. This shift of direction from self help to sadism, probably delays the success does not steal it because success, I think, is bred at birth. It is inculcated in your system, in your subconscious without your conscious knowledge of it. Analogically, someone who is accustomed (destined) to live on the extremes would find it too difficult to exist in a monochromatic life. Even if inertia does manage to hold them in place for sometime, there will come a point in life (life defining moment) when there will be enough external force (circumstances in life) that will compel them to move; and move they will, because that is what they always wanted, consciously or subconsciously.

At this life defining moment in your life, your clairvoyance, conscience, senses and thoughts converge to create a deadly combination called motivation(more of an obsession) to push you towards a goal; you were born to achieve.

Sadism for self becomes masochism of the society, narcissism becomes opprobrium and utopianism breeds values; already imbibed in your subconscious. It is just that you should be opportune enough to realize an opportunity; a circumstance at the earliest ; even if you are late, you are destined to reach your destination; if not then, then sometime later. The point is to hang in there with your structure intact.

Now, what's the point in trying when success as I say 'is bred at birth'?

You do not know whether it was bred at 'your' birth!

Theory Of Vulnerability

There's this old adage saying  -- "When in doubt just toss a coin!"

The outcome of the toss is not what we are looking for. In fact its the process that gives a result. In the split second when the coin is in the air and you are awaiting an outcome, unconsciously or sometimes consciously you will know what you want.

The situation that you are in in those anxious but eventful seconds is what I call, a "Vulnerable State".

We think a lot. 

Yes we do!

Often there isn't congruity in what we think we think and what we actually think.

Again, this is just a claim. Might not be true in some cases.

That is not the point I am trying to make here.

How do you really figure out what you think?!

Often the means rampant in today's world is "talking". Without undermining the importance of talking, articulated rodomontade can often be veiled. You cannot always figure out the heart of the words spoken. Such has been the advent of marketing in recent times that "what is" and "what actually is" are always eons apart.

Another angle to same side of the coin. For objectivists, it would hardly matter what other people think. So the whole argument about marketing, for them, is trivial. However, what they think would matter to them. So, how do you actually figure out what you think? Whether what you think you think is actually what you think or just a garb.

Character should be read from the book of actions rather than the book of words. Words can deceive.

Actions cannot. Again, words uttered could be misinterpreted or said so that they are misinterpreted. No such question arises with the actions that one does.

"You can deceive others with your articulation, but how do you feign actions!"

It's objective! You do or you don't!

Going a little further, there could be mechanical actions, actions ingrained and practiced because of inertia.

Taught purposelessly, learnt aimlessly and performed thoughtlessly. These will hardly reveal the ingrained characteristics.

So what exactly will?!

The decisions taken or the actions performed in what I call a "vulnerable state".   

The state of having your back against the wall, of having no option but to "be yourself" because it is a fight for your existence. Or rather a fight for the existence of what you think your existence is. A blot on your existence would shatter your being and you would do all in your powers to not attain that end even if it meant losing the veil (that you knew you had put on or maybe didn't know at all) that exists on your existence in the eyes of the world.

Losing a loved one, financial distress, sickness are some of the extremely common vulnerable states.
Again, these would differ from person to person as to what triggers their individual existences.

As ironical as it may sound, you are the most vulnerable when in your vulnerable state.

The point of writing the whole thing is basically to enable one to dive into one's own depths and figure out what our vulnerable states are.

Cheating on someone can't be "just a mistake" even if you were inebriated because you let yourself be in that situation in the first place. The alcohol just grew balls for you to do something you always wanted to do. It might sound harsh but it is a way of being.
Stealing cannot be called an effect of social malaise simply because "you stole", whatever the situation. There could be a problem with the society, but the bigger problem lies in you.
Falling and habitually just getting right up cannot be ascribed to the person not having an option but to get up simply because "HE GOT UP!"

Champions are made of such stuff. They somehow find themselves in the right place at the right time every single time.
How can it be? What can it be? seems the more pertinent question.

It lies in being the person. Having such internal mechanisms that govern the neural networks of your brain that enable your internal system to take appropriate decisions at appropriate times.

The significance of the physical toil is often overestimated. Hence the mad rush behind grades, degrees, material prosperity alias "PAPER VALUE".

The important part of "being the person" often gets lost in a mad rush for Paper Value probably because changing internal systems is often tougher than physical toil as it would require alteration to the very core of your existence.

The purpose of putting this here?
Dive into your depths, find your vulnerabilities and most importantly run after the right goals.
Because knowing what you think will go a long way in enabling you to know what makes you happy.
And isn't happiness a goal or rather THE goal of life!  

Atlas Shrugged : Hank Rearden, Character Sketch

The gullibility of human psychology and its’ stupefying denominations of causes and effects of sorrows and pleasures, has made our biggest assets, ‘our minds’, our greatest liabilities.

That which is an effect has become world’s greatest commodity consumed in order to attain an end. It’s a bit like starting a race from the finish and wanting to feel triumphant. To feel victorious, the basis must be correct. Else, you might end up running around in a circle, feeling all proud, without realizing that the harder you try the faster you reach your starting point.

You might win, but you won’t be victorious!

As cliched as it may sound; the journey is as important as if not more, than the destination. What if the river didn't accept the boundaries of its banks?
What if the strings of guitar weren't tight enough?
You cannot obtain pure iron from iron ore without putting it through 1500 C in the blast furnace. You cannot obtain gold from its raw ingredients without synthesizing it in the nuclear reactor.

The point I am trying to make is, “Without living, how come you lived?”

A huge population of the world doesn't live, it exists!

So what is living?
Living is, to become more than yourself, the self that you were at the previous instant, at this instant.
It isn't a mere coincidence or for that matter an act of sorcery that we became humans from monkeys. Or, have we?(!)

I live, therefore I am.

This epitomizes the importance of every instance of my living and my being.

When you think of Hank Rearden, do the thoughts of his wife, brother or mother symbolize or epitomize what Henry Rearden, the Man, stood for?

Far from it! In fact, these people signify the exact opposite of what Hank Rearden stood for, or what Hank would've wanted the name Hank Rearden to typify. Furthermore, these people went so far as to decimate the very core of Hank’s existence. His brother lobbied vehemently for Wesley Mouch and his gang of looters. His mother rebuked him repeatedly on his way of living and his way of thinking. His wife went further and quite haggardly blackmailed him into signing the gift papers.

Hank’s clairvoyance had seen the picture of his family disenchanted with him and in fact jealous of his achievements. Then why did he let himself be tied in chains and held in clutches to be devoured by these (un)civilized, hypocritical, (im)moral  animals of (un)wise judgment.

The root of such behavior lies in the fact that these relationships existed at a very elementary level of existence.

The elementary stage is the possession of raw information as to have the knowledge of how to live a fulfilling life. At this stage you know what(?) but don’t know why(?). You perform actions mechanically without the knowledge of your motive, seldom putting your heart into activities. This existence though a necessary first step is bereft of emotions and attachments for anybody or anything whatsoever.

That’s where Hank Rearden stood with his mother, brother and wife.

To go beyond the elementary level would require the understanding of the underlying concepts. In addition to the factual knowledge you get to the heart of things and discern the why(?) behind questions. This succeeds a natural thirst to know which thereby attaches emotions to activities.

To exemplify this scenario, let’s compare Hank’s relationships with Lillian and Dagny. Did Hank love Lillian? Certainly not! However, the same cannot be said for Dagny. Or for that matter he loved having sex with Dagny but his copulation with Lillian was only mechanical ‘to fulfill his basal needs’. He respected and loved Dagny while abhorred Lillian.

Here again, that which is the end cannot be used to attain an end. Sex isn't the means. Therefore, sex can’t be a commodity.

Dagny's relationship with Hank was at an emotional level. Both had the characteristics to take it to the next level but for Hank’s naivete. Hank described his relationship with Dagny as reparation of his basal needs.

A bruised animal loses its sense of judgment. Concurrently, Hank’s despondent and perfunctory relationships lead him to the idiosyncrasy of equating himself to a dog and Dagny to a bitch.

In stark contrast to his personal life was his professional life.

Rearden Metal and Rearden Mills were everything Hank wanted himself to personify. At the emotional level you often make judgments in fits of emotional turmoil. Retrospectively, these aren't the best decisions taken. To go beyond the emotional level, you need to take things to the realization level.

His mills were his existence. He knew unerringly what, when, why, how, where things worked at his mills. He took account of every worker recruited, every ounce of metal poured, every megawatt of electricity used and every second of what he and his men did at Rearden Mills. He could take on the role of every one of his employees from the clerk, to the operating-engineer, to the strategist, to the financial-planner, to the human-resources-manager to the researcher.

He embodied his mills.

 Success is an anticlimax at this stage. Long lasting legacy, happiness and contentment ensue.

Hank Rearden gave in to the demands of Wesley Mouch and his gang of looters.

Rearden metal was his lifeblood, the essence of his life! He gave it up for his ‘basal needs’?

Oh Dagny, my Dagny!

 “There are no contradictions. When there’s one, check your premises!
Because one of them is wrong! “
                                                  

Therefore when Rearden made love to Dagny, it wasn’t to satisfy animal instincts. Rearden realized that and that’s why he ‘gifted’ his metal and his mills to Wesley Mouch.

Given the stature of his feelings and the development of his soul, why then did Dagny not end up with him?
Although there were more reasons to the happening, here we’ll analyze Rearden’s side of reasons.

            Every action has equal and opposite reaction.
            In any compromise between food and poison, poison always wins.

Rearden’s concept of soul-body dichotomy destroyed his mills and almost execrated him on self-assumption of misplaced guilt. He regarded sensual pleasures, the society despicable; abhorred it vociferously but lost track of his ideology when, in a rather ignorant fashion, described his ‘affair’ with Dagny as basal. Thereby, he ensnared himself in a vicious circle; by ridiculing the way the society functioned as abominable and superficial on one hand and using the rules, he despised, to discern his own relationships, on the other.

“Soul and body are different, antagonistic entities with contradictory characteristics.”

This thought process of the multitude originates from deep-rooted subconscious beliefs and flourishes because of the kind of environment we live in. It’s cowardly to think in this fashion and often destructive. Rearden learnt it the hard way.

According to Indian scriptures, the soul has no attributes. For it to reach salvation, it has to live the life of a human being, sometimes several, and make progress in various stages to eventually become ‘One’.
            The world is God’s creation. Often there are things science cannot fathom and logic cannot explain.
            “Believe so that you may understand! “
The very idea of the structure of the world is to ‘live’. The way you live and the way you think depend upon the quality of your character.

            There was a boy, Nachiketa. In this epoch, two parallel civilizations flourished in India. One belonged to the angels and the other to the demons. The demons had devised new methods of war and would soon become invincible. These had to be learnt as soon as possible. Nobody was ready to let their sons go to the demons and learn their methods of warfare for fear of their sons becoming demons. Then there was Vājashravasa who sent his son Nachiketa saying,” he’d make those demons angels but he’ll not become a demon.” Nachiketa stayed with the demons for years, learnt their art of warfare, came back and defeated the demons.

Hence,
1.Development of your character is the single most important thing in life
2.Material development doesn’t last without the development of the mind.

            Rearden’s mind was truly developed and that’s why he’s a hero. His case can be concluded in sync with the following theory.

            It’s said it’s easier to go from one extreme to another than to move from somewhere around the middle to the top. For the ones who are around the centre, the price they’ve to pay for the joy of achievement over idleness is too big; something that doesn’t fit into their cloister of mediocrity.

The scenario is quite different for the elitist; they walk a really tight rope; a foot here and a hand there and they’re in a freefall.

First, they’re the subject of intense scrutiny. Second, they’re victims of an ongoing battle with self for something called ‘Perfectionism’. The obsession of being the best comes at a price. For if they achieve a goal it is ‘their’ ‘God-given-gift’. If not, they’re crucified.

An intellectual error in judgment, probably delays success doesn’t withhold it because success, I think, is bred at birth. It’s inculcated in your system, in your subconscious without your conscious knowledge of it.

There’s always a time when your clairvoyance, senses and thoughts converge to create a deadly combination called motivation to push you towards a goal; you were born to achieve.

            Hank Rearden was an elitist. Therefore, what he went through was a learning process to reach his ‘destination’. Hence, the killer tenet of soul-body dichotomy actually helped Rearden kill the very idea that was destroying his life. That’s because he had his character to fall upon when his judgment erred.

A Love Story

Abrupt repartees
Unanswered calls
Prevaricated answers
The writing was on the wall

Difference of opinions
Difference of personalities
Difference of expectations
Difference of thought

The effervescent social being
An introvert, moody radical
The spoiled rich brat
A spooky, 'correct' nerd
The materialistic hedonist born with a silver spoon
A niggardly wannabe perfectionist starting from the bottom

It could not have been.
It just could not have been.

The fear of never being
Fostered by loneliness
And it came - the first proposal
Had to come
"I like you!"
She had a boyfriend.
Couldn't have not had.

Distance
Priorities
Careers
Life

Fours years and a boyfriend later
"I am sorry."
"Felt like talking to you!"
Couldn't have not said.

The sensitive, caring friend
A stubborn, egoistic loner
The vivacious, still very social optimist
An anti social, nihilistic Utopian
The socially sensitive philanthropist
A career oriented pragmatist

It still couldn't have been.

"Want to start a school."
"Me too."
"Hate the education system."
"Hate the poor not getting education."
"Feel really strongly about you."
"Can't feel the way I felt for him,
Especially not after another one."

The hypocritic liar
An honest lover
The emotionally hurt object
A broken house of cards
The socially burdened stoic
A rebellious objectivist

"Happy holi"
"Same to you"
Overwhelmed by the occasion
Motored by unconscious emotions
Hand in hand
In the middle of the Arabian sea
Amongst a crowd
They stood

"I don't know about her
But I lived a lifetime in those two and a half minutes."

She could've married
He could've loved another
She would get a better guy
He would get a more compatible girl
She was lost
He was sure
She would refuse
He would ask anyway

Two months of emotional turmoil later
"I love you"
"I haven't thought about it"
Couldn't have not thought

The rehearsed answer
An honest proposal
The confused soul
A shattered glass

A year and several moments later,
Things are still the same.

She apparently doesn't
He still does
She doesn't care
He doesn't expect her to
She talks
He fights hope

It couldn't have been.
Never meant to be.

A battle with self
A battle of self denial
A battle to kill hope
A battle to undo the true
A battle to wrong the right
A battle against inertia
A battle of self communication.

It cannot be.
It simply cannot be.
Not meant to be.

The emotions stand
Unrequited
Needn't be!

True can't be made false
Right cannot be wronged
Life cannot be death

She has moved away
Half of him has moved on
She will regret this
He hopes she doesn't
She sympathizes with him
He empathizes with her

Quite simply, it just couldn't have been

She learnt to stand up for herself
He learnt to love
She learnt to love her more
He learnt defeat
She learnt to move ahead
He learnt to carry on

Candid Monologue

I tried not to.
I don't want to.
But I just do!

I dont know why
I dont know when
But i know that I did then,
And I do now

Everytime you laugh
Everytime we talk
Everytime I see you

I try not to
I dont want to
But I just do

Like never before
Like always
Like ever after.

While holding your hand
While aimlessly staring at you
While thoughtlessly thinking about you

I try not to
I dont want to
But I just do

While looking in your eyes
While listening to your expressions
While reading the untyped texts

After your lies
In your cover-up trials
With your messed up excuses

I try;
Try really hard not to
Because honestly, i dont want to
But I do

Inferno

Underneath the garb of calmness and serenity, burns an inferno!
 
 
Amid-ts several life currents, I now stand at crossroads of life;
The road to be taken is now on the horizon'
A decision has to be made, a road has to be taken!
 
A squabble thus begins, a nasty one at it;
 
The promise of forgive and forget,
The lure of a new life,
The practicality of rationality,
And the rationality of a futuristic reality,
All strike at once with honest yet venomous brutality!
 
And there lays my body,
Rattled by the ferocity of the forthcoming,
Buried in the cacophony of opinions,
Pusillanimous by rational prognostications;
My body lays -- Numb, still, enervated, directionless!
 
The heart surrenders,
Rather timidly, but understandably;
Burdened by the nebulous past,
Awed by the big future that promised much,
But never really arrived.
 
Thus lies the beleaguered soul;
In the face of death,
Beating it's last beats
Relieving its most cherished memories,
Remembering its most entrusted beliefs.
 
A sigh ensues and the tears start to flow,
Not in pity of the soul,
But on its own state nevertheless.
On its reflection in the shattered pieces of hope,
On the loss of trust in its Trust,
On the loss of expectancy which,
Once looked only at the possibilities.
On the loss of faith in its own something,
Something called love if ever it existed;
A love that has lasted for so long
So innocently so unconditionally so truly so impractically 
so irrationally so completely so comprehensively!
 
That something called love resurfaces
The reminisces of moments start taking effect
The heart beats
And it beats again
And again and again
For that someone
For that soul-mate who is but isn't
For that love which was but never was
For that ever so beautiful face which was always mine but never was
For that seamless, innocent relationship
With no ground rules, no conditions
No wants, no needs!
 
The innocence,
Of wanting to be together
Of always talking about each other
If not talking to each other
Of thinking about each other
Of simply, seamlessly and tirelessly,
Loving each other.
 
That innocence ekes out a moment from somewhere
Right from the happiest of memory corners
To give life hope
To give love courage
To give trust vigor
And the blood starts flowing
The heart beat strengthens and then steadies
 
Rationality takes a punch
Trying to Ir-rationalize the rationality of it all
There it was, light at the end of a tunnel;
There's rationale behind the irrational
Meaning inside the meaningless
Pattern in randomness
Passion to the thoughtless
Hope beyond hopeless
Love beyond hatred
Trust beyond love
And love beyond boundaries
 
The cloister of mediocrity comes calling
In the veil of practicality!
What is day without night
What is food without hunger
What is success without failure
What is happiness without sorrow
What is love without longing!!!
 
Stealthily amid-st the triumph
Strikes the unyielding 
The downtrodden and abhorred
The fear, fear of rejection, fear of failure 
In a manner that could suit only itself
Circumventing the past
With exaggerated conjectures
And conjectures is all they are.
 
The truth lies in those moments
That heartfelt of unspoken love
A love that is but isn't
A love that always was but wasn't
A love that always will be but might not be
A love to love nevertheless
A love to cherish for always
A love that was always loved even when it wasn't
A love that is still loved when it isn't
A love that always will be loved even if it won't
 
The hope lives
Head high, triumphant at an emphatic victory;
Only to realize the next moment-
This is no time to let loose,
For bigger, bloody battles lay ahead
Battles that will require every ounce,
Battles that will sap every drop,
Battles that will intend to kill!
 
But the hope is ready,
With trust as its Armour;
To fight off every opponent,
To hang in till the very end,
To give the win every chance!
 
Maybe, just maybe
The inferno is strong enough to last,
Hot enough to kill,
Most of all, brave enough to stay burning:
Till the end, until the very end!
 
For however the story ends
I'd have a tale to tell,
A cause for life to smile upon me
A cause for live
A cause to die happy
And in the end
A cause for love to love the love that loved!