Parting Ways
Recently a lot of things went through my mind. Just this morning I was in a lecture about 20th century war poetry, and we're listening to the lecturer's chanting of Thomas Hardy's Convergence of the Twain.
Her words never seem more true and real than what she said that moment about the time-transcending nature of Hardy's poems. I felt though that it seemed to have me reflecting on the opposite of what I should have felt.
If ever two opposing forces should be destined to meet each other in the vast sea of people, why should it then be destined also for them to leave each other? It's sad beauty isn't it, to have to see people parting ways, and that sudden swing of mood left you wondered about those jolly moments that those two might have shared.
I was just wondering if ever the Iceberg was supposed to cross its path with the Titanic. Two splendid creatures, one by The Almighty, the other Man himself - should it ever be so significant that it be told years later on big motion picture? Should all pretty things end? Or rather not so much of a choice that they needed to end so that nicer things can come along?
I felt that it's utmostly hard for two beings to come together; I would reckon at around few thousand times harder than the convergence of Mother Nature and The Unsinkable. Still, love is lost and lost again for vain and selfish reasons.
I was just thinking if all that a lady deserves at the end of the road so dreary and long, and steep and uneven, is such a man unworthy of her love, if ever the case should parting be fine. Or if a most loving man should grasp upon the very woman that loves him not, and hang on like a lifeless vine; only to fall eventually?
I sensed a sudden urge to scream silently for those who parted ways with most loved, of the folly self that deserted them, or foolishness itself. For it seems to me that nothing can be more desirable than the hope of seeing those last days of Earth with the one most dear beside you.
Her words never seem more true and real than what she said that moment about the time-transcending nature of Hardy's poems. I felt though that it seemed to have me reflecting on the opposite of what I should have felt.
If ever two opposing forces should be destined to meet each other in the vast sea of people, why should it then be destined also for them to leave each other? It's sad beauty isn't it, to have to see people parting ways, and that sudden swing of mood left you wondered about those jolly moments that those two might have shared.
I was just wondering if ever the Iceberg was supposed to cross its path with the Titanic. Two splendid creatures, one by The Almighty, the other Man himself - should it ever be so significant that it be told years later on big motion picture? Should all pretty things end? Or rather not so much of a choice that they needed to end so that nicer things can come along?
I felt that it's utmostly hard for two beings to come together; I would reckon at around few thousand times harder than the convergence of Mother Nature and The Unsinkable. Still, love is lost and lost again for vain and selfish reasons.
I was just thinking if all that a lady deserves at the end of the road so dreary and long, and steep and uneven, is such a man unworthy of her love, if ever the case should parting be fine. Or if a most loving man should grasp upon the very woman that loves him not, and hang on like a lifeless vine; only to fall eventually?
I sensed a sudden urge to scream silently for those who parted ways with most loved, of the folly self that deserted them, or foolishness itself. For it seems to me that nothing can be more desirable than the hope of seeing those last days of Earth with the one most dear beside you.
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