I can’t help but dream beyond the physical world when everything I have lies in the souls of others. Dreaming, however, I’ve found is what hurts us the most. We are told to believe in only what we can touch and see so when we are faced with a force so powerful such as love, we must be weary of it. But how can that be? Love is the fuel that we drive on. It’s what we yearn for, even at the brightest hour on a summer day.
To love what is physically unattainable is considered cursed. There is the threat of damage when love begins to blossom. But personally, I feel the only damage is missing out on such a feeling. How may we move forward with the materialistic world when there is nothing to come home to. Nothing to find within yourself. Nothing to fall back on.
We must be weary of detaching ourselves from what forms within, rather than giving our whole being to something impermanent such as the physical world. Bodies and places will always be temporary in our inevitable fate. But love is forever, and can never be taken away.
I Try
To have my poems be self-explanatory; if only condensed in the title. Good title on this poem. Says it all. :D