The Passion Of Lovers

Love is one of those mysteries no man is yet to explain... it brings the mightiest of kings to his knees, and turns the humblest of peasants into royalty. No one can avoid it, no one can explain it, no one can conquer it or subdue it, and no one can deny it. Love is mans greatest foe and ally in one.
It could be said love does more harm than good... for who has not felt the wrath of a lover scorned or the harsh face of rejection? Love is a hindrance, it impairs our judgement and senses, wreaks havoc with our conscience, beats silly our self control, and totally forgets reason altogether. So why do we still succumb to loves vicious grip so easily? Is it that our primitive cerebrum takes over? Or is it that we willingly revert to an animal like state for the sake of 'love'?
But love has its up side... the romance, the flowers, the affection, the stargazing, and the rest. But it seems to all end in tragedy. As in any good play love will never last in real life, and if it does some other heartbreak will befall us.
What could be worse, though, than a love that is not returned? When only one person is the lover, they are left with no one to love. For loving unrequited, is like loving a statue. Poor, poor Adonis. Perhaps the Gods will take pity on us too, and breath life into that cold face of rejection we stare into with longing, everyday wondering if they will feel the same, yet knowing in your heart that they never can. Oh how it hurts, poor Echo comes to mind, when the object of desire is so fully blind. I think of Narcissus, and take pity on him too, because when its not totally blank, love is always just out of reach. But still I cant help but remember Aphrodite, oh loving Venus. Love herself in all her beauty, still couldn't keep her hands to herself and her lover. If love is not attainable for the Gods how can we mere mortals expect to do better? Rejection and cheating are the core of 'love'. Still we cherish this sought after commodity like gold or silver, cry over it like spilt milk, hate it like Lucifer himself, and all the while we are only chasing our reflection, or sleeping in another's bed.

Contents

- Maori Myths & Legends

- For the Glory of Rome
- The Sanity of Professor R.J. Basil Part One, Two, Three
- The Trials of Archibald Henderson of Windsor

- Convergere

- Other