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Journal for Nadaud
Journal for Nadaud
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Dark times are made darker with the bitter feel of loneliness and the salty taste of tears. It is that no soul seems to hear my words and truly care that rends my heart, and my heart is reaching its end. Will this young man who seeks perfection ever find love in its pure form? Perhaps love in pure form is extinct, wrongly relegated to the past in this age when the only thing more shallow than a person is the depth of their smartphone. Perhaps my kind is going extinct, soon to be displayed in a museum, for I dream of bygone days when a woman and a man needed love and only love. If that is so, then I will accept my fate as I watch the shallow people play with their phones and text their "lovers." But I still hope that someday I will find a woman who believes that the greatest gift is love, even if I sometimes do not believe that myself.
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