The untimely fault of a man and his singular pride: creation, and the sin that had occurred to make it possible. Does a man act in God’s own image, and if so, then is God a sinner? We love the sinner, so in such a case, we also love God.
Death is opposite to life. Death is opposite to love. Both life and love are connected; and should one say otherwise, to say that one could merely mention that one “loves the sight of death”, it should be automatically assumed that such a person is homicidal. Would they love the sight of their dying mother; their dying children; or any dying loved one?
Is such a person the most selfish breed to exist? We ask this, because we have just barely described a certain man, named Gustave, whose torment is lasting. He yearns for Katharina, though has never made a move for their next reunion. He yearns to see her, as such can be noticed in his eyes.
The torment, that is; and such torment bleeds onto his cheeks, from tears that have swollen from a deep well. They rise, and they flow outward, and flow such cheeks with those tears, like dew that drops off a petal.
He notices Devorah, perhaps given the money needed for a vocation like to be a performer; though, for what purpose? Was it merely a choice for escapism? When a man runs from danger, he’d be deemed a coward. Is this the right accusation? It should be, and it should be enforced among the “laws of society” that a man would not be a man, if he could not keep a promise. To say to a woman, “I will protect you with all my might,” and through that love, his strength become infinite.
Such tears, and such wispy cheeks, that flows the rivers from his eyes; there is that torment, that woe, and searing grief, of a loss that is not beknown to be a loss!
In this lonely moment, he looks to where the stairs reside, and ascends them.
He ascends them, to then turn at the hallway to where Devorah slumbers.
It is morning, and Devorah is sleeping into the late morning where noon approaches. She is noticed by him. She is noticed to have a handsome appearance, with her developing form, and still-childish face. A smile is kept below her nose and above her rounded chin, neatly placed as though some artist found it fitting to swipe two strokes of pink across such pallid skin. Lovely, in her visage, and youthful, in her body.