𝓜𝓪𝓱𝓪𝓫𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓽 𝓕𝓲𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷
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The Mahabharata is the very Book of Life: in its variety, majesty and, also, in its violence and tragedy. It has been said that nothing exists that cannot be found within the pages of this awesome legend, a tale so fragile.
What if a single misconception broke the unbreakable bond of the 5 brothers just for the best? Misconceptions that ate their way like acids destroying everything.
Everything is ephemeral.
"I was ready to die for you, but never realized that it was you who will kill me.
A traitor only becomes one if their plot is discovered. The imposition of guilt means nothing to those who feign loyalty. More skilled conspirators wield treason as a clinical tool of regime change and political expediency. Then, with their own hand writing history, such traitors may wear the clothes of patriots.
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Innocent are always the first victims, it has been for ages and is still.
If you want to see the brave, look at those who can forgive. If you want to see the heroic, look at those who can love in return for hatred.
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No empire lasts forever, no dynasty continues unbroken. Some day, you and I will be mere legends. All that matters is whether we did what we could with the life that was given to us.
I once knew a man who was heir to the throne of a great kingdom, he lived as a ranger and fought his destiny to sit on a throne but in his blood he was a king. I also knew a man who was the king of a small kingdom, it was very small and his throne very humble but he and his people were all brave and worthy conquerors. And I knew a man who sat on a magnificent throne of a big and majestic kingdom, but he was not a king at all, he was only a cowardly steward. If you are the king of a great kingdom, you will always be the only king though you live in the bushes. If you are the king of a small kingdom, you can lead your people in worth and honor and together conquer anything. And if you are not a king, though you sit on the king's throne and drape yourself in many fine robes of silk and velvet, you are still not the king and you will never be one.
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Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up.
I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant.
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𝓐𝓷𝓭 𝓼𝓸 𝓬𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓵𝓮𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓭𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓼𝓵𝓲𝓹 𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓮𝓪, 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓾𝓪𝓵𝓵𝔂.....
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YOU ARE READING
Ephemera
Historical Fiction"Heavy is the head that wears the crown" Ephemera: Nothing is permanent, flowers that bloomed will die in a matter of weeks, before the trees leaf out and shade them. Everything is passing and precious. No empire lasts forever, no dynasty continue...
