Tides of Torment.
It’s your heart breaking: a thunderous echo of a tiny crack in a fragile mould, a network of fissures spreading from the crack, a veined lattice that is beginning to destroy the delicacy of the mould.There are no guises for raw pain, no treatments ,no balms except for the old adage that time will heal all.
Time does it’s best and it can do only so much.
It can over the years diminish the absolute, overwhelming tides of torment that are all consuming .It teaches us ,to ever so slowly to regain our cognitive process and tame our emotions to resemble that of normal people : of people who are strangers to tragedy and grief or people more accustomed to coping with it.
It does not teach us to forget, to blissful oblivion that which so many of us desire in the beginning. Time teaches us so much but it can only do so much. Time for no man will turn it’s back upon it’s self and give you back an instant, a moment longer for you to linger, for you to whisper, rectify, heal all past wrongs, to make tangible what you subconsciously know will soon be intangible forever. Time does not go back to give you a second chance. The only chances are with the present or the future.
So while all will congregate to hold you when they expect you to crumble, gradually livelihood and life will beckon them deep , to the trivial mercies of their life and they will be so immersed in living that they will not see you die .For what no one seems to say, is that time takes it’s toll .