I have grown cold, no, not cold. I am as warm as ever, because i now know how to love, more like, i have grown to expect less, that way i can be safe of disappointment, while i am still able to enjoy good surprises.
Still, i fell like I am in fact colder, caring less, even though I would give my world or fight a nonexistent imaginary but deadly war if you just asked for it.
But you don’t. Even when i know you want to.
Knowing it doesn’t give me the power nor the will to say or do things you did not ask for.
knowledge is power indeed. But the real power comes from the action itself. The application of that knowledge is where the “power” really lays on. In an infinite bed of thoughts and actions.
A bed we could lay on, if you just asked for it.
And that he thought. His last thought before leaving his enlightened life, dying in a room full of this familiar yet terrifying darkness where the light was just a good old memory.