This love such a peculiar giant, the siren that sings to our cores and captivate our wearisome hearts, such spell we are under there’s no escaping, no matter how hard we fight against its charm and divination of something forever one way or another will mark us, this love the epiphany of men’s existence, this love hypnotize our pleasures and awaken dormant desires, but at the end lead us all into the bosom of futility.

Words By Micheline Jean Louis

Painting by Unknown

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