The Quest For Love
The quest for love is probably one of the hardest things a human must endure in their
tiny existence on earth. It is the one thing that seems to be the driving force behind the
turning of the world. Why is it then so hard to accomplish. Why is it that people search
for it so adamantly that they are willing to accept anything for just a piece of it. Willing to
take any little touch or attention and call it love. To go to extremes to be just near it. No
matter how big the consequences are that comes along with it. Yet when this thing, love,
is found, this thing that has been sought after for so long, it has the potential of so much
hurt condensed into it. A snake hiding in the tall grass. Someday somewhere its just
waiting to unleash the terror hidden inside. Waiting to drop it full force on the
unsuspected like the atom bomb on Hiroshima on families that slept unknowingly in there
beds. Yet its built inside us to seek it out. Built inside us to not quit until we find it. Its
like our own self destruction button. Seek, Search, Destroy. We find it, bath in its glow,
eventually take it for granted and then in the full stride of life it explodes. And out of the
rubble those that survive are left to pick up the pieces and start all over again. Because
we do. We never learn. We merely stitch together the remaining parts throw a patch
over the holes and start looking for the next self timing bomb. Because if we’re not
looking then we’re decaying into a mass of self loathing and pity. So in turn we are
condemned to keep pursing our own demise. No matter who you are if you’ve loved then
at one time you’ve detonated. It’s a coin one side always comes with the other and
sooner or later you’ll see both of its faces. It seems to be a matter of chance of which side
shows its face more. If your quiet on a dark night, alone wrapped only in blackness, you
can hear it calling, beckoning to come to it, a siren singing her alluring song. Its voice
riding undetectable waves in the night to come to rest in your head. A parasite laying its
eggs. Eggs that will hatch unnoticed in the future to feed on its host, that has kept them
warm and safe for so long. And so the cycle goes perpetuating itself on and on through
centuries. Never stopping. And for this we live. For this we fight and for this we kill and
for this we die.
Copyright © Jeremy Moore | Year Posted 2011
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