When I came to this crossroad,
I met this lovely young lady.
She had no face and I
could only see her soul.
I knelt down beside her
and said how is your soul is so radiant?
She said when you center
yourself, you enter the state of allowing yourself to see all that is good and
evil.
She was the one meant
for me and her soul was as bright as the sun.
I took the road to the
left and never saw her again.
The next day I came back
and there was no light at the crossroad but a black heart.
What is the moral of the
story?
This is how I feel.
No one is for certain
who you will meet at each crossroad of our lives.
Don't lose a chance to
make something out of each crossroad.
Then I picked up that
heart put it in the pocket on my sleeve and wore it there for all the world to
see.
I walked across a tiny
wooden bridge where I met a man with no soul just a mangled face.
We spoke about the
people on this road.
We talked till sunset.
He said I can give you
what you need.
He wanted to buy a page
of my story in exchange that he would revive her.
He goes on, give me your
hearts and I will make you one.
I gave the gnarled-faced
man, our hearts to be intertwined.
He pushed them together,
fusing them in a great ball of light that escaped with colors the likes that
the world has ne'r seen before.
Hope was born.
She never came back but
I had a newfound appreciation for love.
Love is not always going
to be handed to us, it's never easy, can't be bought, and always comes with a
price.
I wanted to find love but the mangled-faced man gave me hope.
It is so strange what the darkness brings and how it brings out the light in places where you would never see it.