Masterpiece of Tangled Beauty and Beast

     We are all breaking, if not broken.  The said words are less important than the unspoken.  If I thought it'd do any good, I'd share a token, the most valuable thing I own, but poor in money, I'm rich in the unseen. But you don't care much for that; it doesn't produce a pretty penny.  As the dagger hits your heart, I see your swollen eyes soften. The three most deceiving, most healing words, said too often, but not meant enough: "I love you." But does anyone? Have we allowed sacrifice, being selfishly selfless, show us what to truly love truly means?  And so, what have we to show, to be, without passion the actual root of anything. And so, it is all about the money, the fame, the items, the name.  If only we were so driven for mankind, the kind of man would be entirely changed.  First, the soul, then the face. Coping is sin, for not in the natural, but how we choose. What's your addiction, and perhaps I will share a glimpse of mine? Oh, no! Our mutual assistant would never allow that, goes by the title pride.  Have you ever seen anything so tragic? Encountered anything so beautiful? So messy the human heart?  The epic, age-old battle between spite and love, below and above, so evident yet so convoluted.  "It's complicated." We say everything lies in the grey area, yet we are the ones who twist it.    It is simple, right and wrong. Good and bad.  To love, not to love.  We add conditions, circumstances, track records, and suddenly the picture is an abstract piece of art.  A masterpiece of tangled beauty and beast. I have no answer, no potion, no wise word, or solution.  All I know at the end of a day full of dreams and their fitting procrastination: We are a purposed creation.