Sapience

What is Love..? This seemingly Powerful and Mysterious force which
beguiles and transfixes..? Some say it is a feeling, a wonderful
feeling, which grows inside of ones heart, warming the soul, body,
and mind. Others say it is a Power beyond all Powers. It is the
meaning, nay, the very essence, of Life. Still others might say its
just something that feels damn good when you have it.

Is Love all of these things..? Is it perhaps, more..?

No.

It isnt.

It is none of the things mentioned. Why is that, you ask..? You have
Love, you say..? You have experienced it..? Those who have
experienced love will agree with me, then, when I say, Love is a
bitch.

Love is worthless.
Love is useless.
Love is nothing.

Who are you, to make such senseless judgments..? Well, that is none
of your concern. And if this doesnt interest you, then read no
further. But for those of you who do have a heart, and have a care
for it to keep on beating, then I encourage you to keep reading.

Love is a weakness, a disease. The mightiest of men, of woman, fall
prey to this cancerous growth in the heart. Men who laugh at
Grizzlies, women who scoff at Ogres, end up crying, in a corner,
curled up as if they were newly born inside their mothers womb.

Love is a Pain, a Judgment, a Death wish. You are brave enough..? Go
ahead then. Take on the challenge. But you are a fool, if you think
you can survive. You will be reduced to a dribbling infant, a zombie,
one who has been drained of all will to live.

Second chances..?

There *are* no second chances in Love. One who has tried everything
in their power, to make a relationship work, to make Love work, will
only make things worse. Love is a force unlike any other. It slowly
enters your soul, your being, laying false seeds of deception, which
grow inside you, until their tendrils severe your heart from your
inner being.

Yes, I am bitter. More than you will ever know. I am tired of this.

I renounce Love. Some will call me weak, some will call me strong. I
do not care. I am what I am.

Some of you might want me to Post this on Poetry instead of Public.
Too late, it is done. Some of you might want to Debate with me over
Love. No, I will not. Some of you will send me Messages about this
Post. You are welcome to it, but I will not respond. And lastly, this
Post has nothing to do with Current events.

Thank you, Sapience.

Seren

Penned by my hand on the 5th of Miraman, in the year 304 AF.