Writing is the Painting of the Voice - Voltaire

An intruding concept yet beautiful and encouraging. Can this be of relevant in our day to day life.. Like if somebody does harm to me, can I still love that person?? How can I still love the person and at same time despise his action?? How can a person act be separated from the person himself?? There's not simple answer to it and I don't find myself fitting to answer all this but just a reflection about it in my words. I use to have an attitude "Either you are with me or against me" extremely as it is. Either black or white and neither grey nor other colour at all, which is absolutely false even in color world. I find it really hard to comprehend what this really meant.. Like when we commit a mistake we generally excuse ourselves saying being of flesh and blood or just say being human. But hardly we consider it that way when someone does something wrong to us. We will look and find it that the person did intentionally most of time.. What is most intruding to me of t

Born is a man out of love and lust Feeble as a soul can be he begins his journey Guided and leaded by many a kind souls. Nurture and tested over the span of his journey Each steps he takes is a toll on his journey Every choice he made his journey nears closer. Many a time many tried to pull him down, Many a time he fails and falls to the ground. He lie on the ground to rest and was put to rest From the outside it seems his journey ended. Yet after a brief moment a pulse and deep breathe. He's back on feet again, an undying spirit keeps him. Many waited to pull him down again as he stood up But this time he has learned to forgo and overcome Strong and firm he stride towards his destination. He made it to his destination and was overjoyed. Not for long he could enjoy it's fruits, His destiny: "A bullet for a man" And is laid to rest eternally..