People are so hard to connect to; the ability to console someone truly close to you, to find the right words, courage to break the fast of silence and bring solace to your loved ones; stand for it with your whole entity, if that is too much, stand for it with your words and if even that is too much stand for it with your thoughts such is the struggle of connection.
There is no observer tonight; neither am I any wiser than yesterday, present is the consistently crippled performer from chapter 1.
Companionship, a vital essence that the souls desire, fail to quench it with the right people and punishment will ensue; Punishment of the soul is not something to scoff at, for even the greatest warriors kings and knights fell to their knees when it came to the souls punishment. He does not trick you, nor does he ail you with a bodily sickness, yet he still cripples you.
Fearing the souls punishment you take the cup infront of you and drink it, you do not resist even though the cup is filled with poison solely because you believe the cup is decorated in what may be connection; a nasty trick he has played on you, while time is infinite, a choice once made cannot be erased stuck with its memory you become a prisoner, in haste to lesson your burdens of fear you intoxicate yourself with the punishment you may not even have received.
Once, everyone graced by luck receives their pearl atleast once. Once is enough for ballads to be written portraits to be drawn and a firm requiem to be kept deep within one's gowns. The one, the only one, the one that has to be the lady lucks gift of once.
Perfection, a paragon of beauty the beau idéal such is the blessing of once; carving your peace, happiness and love merely with their presence. A dream like this for the poor sucker never lasts, simply a cruel play by Lady Luck meant to snare you into the sinning noise.
A statue, the the pearl which once seemed to be your answer was merely a statue, an idol, a crude idealisation of what you had deliriously believed was perfection. Lady Lucks guidance misunderstood to be the snare, another injustice to add to your collection of sinning noise.
The disappointment you find yourself with is suffocating, to be a victim of yourself; accepting your misplaced feelings, to admit your love was worship, a painful reality to accept and learn from.
You may have lost your pearl but keep in mind you are the oyster, you will make more pearls.
Don't drink the poison simply because you fear inaction.