The mending of a broken heart is of the most difficult task.
In the loss of a hearts security is torment beyond reason.
Decades it may take, to finally tare it down.
A lifetime it may take to kill it off wholly.

Once gone, once ripped, shredded, and hopeless,
the battle for self integrity and love is the souls last motivation.

What does it profit another to willfully desire our pain?
What holding of assets do they gain from such an avocation?
Is it that they have no other comfort?
Is it that once we are hurt, they are no longer alone as well?

Such fragile pieces there are in the heart.
Even when willing no such harm,
we may trample the road that another did destroy.
Even when wishing well,
We step upon the places of tenderness in another.

Barely can the eye see the path to help for another,
when they are of a broken heart, and shattered spirit.
Left only with a graceful desire, may we proceed.
Yet how does one reach a hand,
to a place where we ourselves have stones in our shoes?

And this is the irony of loves lost experience.
That to mend the rip, to sooth the tenderness,
we must ourselves go there.
And to be there is to touch another’s pain,
and the truth of their forgotten trust in man.

Each to their own wether broken or helping to mend,
must try to walk a road of tender mercy.
Each step can be horrifying, and miserably sore.
But each motion is for the intent of healing.

What I must remember always,
is to fear not the feelings that arise from loves lessons.
What I must remember always,
is that love is something we give.
What I must remember always,
is to always seek an answer that leads to life.

What I must remember always,
is that the life of those before me
did bring about the broken heart of those I love.

What I must remember always,
is that my own heart wishes not to contribute to the tare,
wants not to pour salt upon a wound,
even when my own hurts are being touched.

What I do remember always,
Is that those I love are wounded.
And even though it is the curse of the spirit,
even though it is the fight that goes against me,
even though sometimes our true desire and effort are not seen at all…
That it is through a gift, and a forgiveness, that we proceed always.

It is for those that we love, who must be given love.
Not seeking justice for ourselves,
Not seeking that our own pains be healed first,
Not seeking that we are understood before understanding.

But by the fact that we ourselves do feel a desire to love,
that we ourselves are responsible for that love.
It is because without giving what is in our heart to give,
do we withhold from ourselves the very power that flows,
which gives us strength to give.

It may not be the same for men, as for women.
But as a Man I know this very thing.
That I love the Woman who holds my heart in her hands.
That I desire above all things to be a difference in her life.
That I work to offer all that another did take away.
That she is been given this, because I gave it to her.
That she does not need to earn it, afford it, pay for it or justify it.
That she is deserving of truth, and love, and tenderness.
That we have found pure moments of lovingkindness.
That we have reached heights unimaginable.
That we have been given proof that love matters.

So even when my own hand reaches in to cleanse a wound,
and a curse within my own self appears to haunt me,
I must stand as a man, and face my own afflictions.
This is a passion beyond passion, and a reason beyond reason.
It is in the willingness to go to any length, for the desire of love,
that we do find the unlimited resources of love itself.
It is in the lines we make, the unwillingness we have,
do we limit loves potential.

This time in my life,
it shall not be as any time before.
For I was a hypocrite, a liar, a cheater, a thief and unwilling.
This time in my life,
I do not care what sorrow that anyone may bring,
I do not care what truth anyone may beat me with,
I do not hide from any fact that has been the choices of my life,
I do not desire to run from the pain that touches me.

Because I am a Man.
Who loves a Woman.

And it is I who stands before the arrows,
that no one can see.
And it is I who holds the Earth,
that no one knows the weight of.
And it is I who has the power,
to bring desire unto myself for Love to give.

Shall not my scars be faithful to my fall.
It is by their very truth,
that I have earned the willingness in me…

To offer my lover,
Me.

May all men,
remember their honor and integrity and truth this day.
That we love those we love,
and we promise to go to any length,
to be their Man, their rock,
and their Lover in peace.

Ryan o0o