The Winged Hussars

http://www.badassoftheweek.com/hussars.html

"It is chivalry that has no equal in the world; without seeing it with your own eyes, its vigor and splendor is impossible to imagine." - Cosimo Brunetti, 1676

Far From Me

For you dear, I was born
For you I was raised up
For you I've lived and for you I will die
For you I am dying now
You were my mad little lover
In a world where everybody fucks everybody else over
You who are so far from me
Far from me
So far from me
Way across some cold neurotic sea
Far from me

I would talk to you of all matter of things
With a smile you would reply
Then the sun would leave your pretty face
And you'd retreat from the front of your eyes
I keep hearing that you're doing best
I hope your heart beats happy in your infant breast
You are so far from me
Far from me
Far from me

There is no knowledge but I know it
There's nothing to learn from that vacant voice
That sails to me across the line
From the ridiculous to the sublime
It's good to hear you're doing so well
But really can't you find somebody else that you can ring and tell
Did you ever
Care for me?
Were you ever
There for me?
So far from me

You told me you'd stick by me
Through the thick and through the thin
Those were your very words
My fair-weather friend
You were my brave-hearted lover
At the first taste of trouble went running back to mother
So far from me
Far from me
Suspended in your bleak and fishless sea
Far from me
Far from me

Crazy love

Hated by all and everywhere he goes
Blazing contempt for human life and lies
Murder as art and what he knows he knows
from life and fear in other people's eyes

Crazy love is all around me
Love is crazy love is kind
But I know somehow you'll find me
Love is crazy love is blind

She walks the boulevard without a care
Knowing too much but having come so far
Pretending life is just a game you play for nothing
Loving no-one and no-where

Crazy love is all around me
Love goes crazy given time
But I know somehow you'll find me
Love is crazy love is blind

She looks as if expecting a surprise
Maybe an encounter that will change her life
Not knowing hot from cold or good for bad
If life is just a joke or if it makes her sad

Crazy love is all around me
Love is crazy love is kind
But I know somehow you'll find me
Love is crazy love is blind

Crazy love is all around me
Love goes crazy given time
But I know somehow you'll find me
Love is crazy love is blind

They are all dead, but he...

“Loneliness is never more cruel than when it is felt in close propinquity with someone who has ceased to communicate”

 Germaine Greer quotes

They are all dead. You tried to prop their caskets open with your love. It did not work. The casket was much stronger. Their will to detach from you much fixed. Determined for one reason or another, some you will never understand, to erase you. Who cares if it destroys you? Then again, you are no victim. You choose who you love, or does it just happen? An irrational branch of the human condition. But why do they all have to die? Why are they ripped from you so suddenly, so cruelly? Is there really a predetermined hex on your relations? Can it be? It seems that way. Because they all die. They rip the binding of the book that contained the love, the loyalty, the bond, the intensity and for you they say "I cannot" " I cannot." The binding so unjustifiably mutilated that it resists and rejects the love so strong in you that attempts to put it back together. How is it they are dead to you but alive to others? It must be your fault. But what have you done? You've done your best to be there for them in times of hardship, yet when it is your hardship they suddenly become ghosts. Why? There is never an answer, but a fact becomes more clear to you as time and loss continue to steal your happiness, your connections, your sense of being a normal human that shares bonds with others, that can rely on those that say they care to really care: You will always be alone. Why do some people, good people, remain alone? Alone like being spit upon after receiving a compliment. Alone like the self-destruct button tempting the press of your forlorn finger. Who will be there to stop that finger? Not the one that said "I care," not the one that said "I love you," not the one that purposely turned a deaf ear to your plea for reassurance, for comfort, for desperate need of the only bond that can save you: all the meaningless words spoken to you, indicative promises of devotion, had disappeared into the air as most lies - become vapid: you are a fool for believing those words before they made themselves dead to you. You have a part. The part is allowing the cycle to recycle. Is it your fault? "Such are promises." And you want to believe. And so you do. And so you are lost among the dead, thinking, remembering, but the dead do neither. The dead do not care. The dead leave the living to suffer their absence. And the cliche is "all you have is you." And the cliche is "all you have is you." If all you have is you then why do you see people bonding, connecting, making and keeping plans amongst one another where for you there is "Such are promises" ? It is confusing and terrifying, these lies, these false hopes, and not necessarily lies so much as irresponsible whims.  Losing hope is murder. Losing hope shatters the life-force. Constant betrayal and loss. A merry-go-round of the same disappointments. Corruption of trust. Lack of faith in humanity. What can you do? The more it changes the more it stays the same-title of a song you love and loathe. They do not even say goodbye.You will never understand why they do not want you-why they leave. You gave too much of yourself. No reciprocity. Such is your life, the hard way. Loss. Like the dead. Photographs of the dead. Memories of the dead. Resentment of the dead. Cruelty. Tell your baggage to stop overflowing lest it kill the next...
But he. He waits for you. Sometimes patiently, sometimes not. He sees you, values you, respects you, LOVES you. Never tries to intentionally hurt you. No cruel words fire at you through his perfect mouth. You hurt him yes, but true love endures, waits, suffers, does not disappear into the air. But he, despite the sorrows, despite your pushing away,  imperfections, hospitalizations, breakdowns, angry words, manias, recklessness, every defect under the goddamn sun: he remains. You trust him with your life. He wants to put back together what was broken. Seal together the bond that was severed. He is very much alive. He is immortal to you. He has never made you feel less than. He is willing to hold on, hold on, hold on. He has shown you what true love is. He is your connection to life. He will never lock the casket on you. You cry because you know that he is good. May be he is the only good you know. Pure and innocent of all that is false. And when he touches you with his tender hand, you believe, all hope is not lost. He will never leave you. He will always stay. The care and love he has for you is indestructible. It took a summer apart to see. A summer that ended in tragedy inspired in you the desire to hear his gentle voice, his healing presence, as you cried in devastation, he listened and yearned for you, forgave you. Your love for him grew deeper after the nightmare and the rotten experiences with unwholesome creatures. You are not entirely alone. Gratitude.
“Unity to be real must stand the severest strain without breaking” Mahatma Gandhi quotes