Loved and lost, or never loved at all?

Writing Prompt: Loved and lost, or never loved at all? Which might you prefer?

To know nothing about love is to know nothing about losing that love. And while I might save myself the pain of loss by not loving at all, I would never know the joy of loving. To know neither joy nor pain is as good as living the life of a corpse or a robot. There will be no meaning to my existence. I will not know why I do certain things, or why I will do anything not to do them.

Therefore, I would rather have loved once, just for a day and then lose that, than stay neutral all my life. Humans are creatures of emotion. We need love.

With You, I’ll Be Only Sibylla (Part 10)

Disclaimer: Kingdom of Heaven is directed by Sir Ridley Scott and written by William Monahan. I don’t own any of it, and I’m not making any profit. I’m just borrowing the story and the characters and making my own interpretation.

 

Chapter 10: The Pain of Love

 

To be confused was one of the most tormenting feelings that a man could have. The horse moved of its own accord underneath him. It knew its way home, but Balian, unlike his horse, did not know exactly where he would go next, or where he actually wanted to go. He held the reins loosely, all the while battling the urge to go back and beg Sibylla for forgiveness, even though he had done nothing wrong. His heart ached. He longed for her, loved her, and he would gladly die for her, but he could not sell his soul, not even for his Sibylla.

 

‘Did you know?’ he asked Godfrey inside his head. ‘Did you know that to be a knight meant that I would have to suffer?’ He felt the phantom sting as he remembered the slap that the old knight had given him at his knighting ceremony. Yes, of course Godfrey had known. He himself had been a knight, and he had told Balian through that slap that he would suffer. The man closed his eyes. He should be accepting this all with good grace; he had come to Jerusalem for forgiveness, after all, and this was his penance. However, his heart would not accept it quietly. He was torn.

 

“I do love you,” he whispered into the cool night breeze, half hoping that it would carry his words to his princess.

With You, I’ll be Only Sibylla (Part 7)

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything that you recognize. Kingdom of Heaven belongs to Sir Ridley Scott, William Monahan, and history.

 

Warning: Implications of adult material

 

Chapter 7: A Princess’ Decision

The sight of Jerusalem greeted her; the open gates were like the jaws of an ancient monstrosity. She had no desire to go in, to be embroiled in that seething cauldron of politics again, but what choice did she have. Her blood had doomed her from her birth. She was a princess. She was a political pawn. Sibylla glanced at the still form of her brother on his litter. He had always been her shield, trying to protect her from all the dangerous intricacies of court life, but now he was dying. To whom would he pass this mantle of protector? In her mind, there was only one candidate. She risked looking backwards, past Guy, and at the unimposing figure of Balian. He gave her a small smile and then resumed his conversation with Tiberias.

 

His presence made Sibylla feel a bit safer in her own city. If she could have her way, then he would be her Champion. The noises and smells of Jerusalem washed over her, bringing her back to reality. The lords and knights began to disperse to go to their houses in the city. Balian and his men broke off relatively early to ride back to Balian’s house. The servants no doubt would be unprepared for their master’s arrival.

 

The palace was dark, even though the servants had lit all the torches. The king was quickly carried to his own chambers. The Saracen physicians, sent by Saladin himself, followed, along with Bishop Heraclius, the patriarch of Jerusalem. Sibylla was left alone to find her own way back to her apartments, not that she actually needed an escort. Guy brushed past her and disappeared into the dimness of the corridors. They had not spoken during the entire journey back to Jerusalem. She cared not. There was nothing to say. He had his way of life; she had hers.

With You, I’ll Be Only Sibylla (Part 4)

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the characters. They all belong to the creators of the movie, Kingdom of Heaven, and God.

Warning: Implications of adult content

Chapter 4: There is Only Light

 

The rooms were simple, with only basic furnishing. Godfrey had not been a man for ornamentation, and his son was even less so. Sibylla smiled as she took in her rooms. Balian had given her the master suite. The lack of decoration was a refreshing change. There was no clutter here, no dark secrets. Ibelin was an innocent, just like its master. She had her maids bring in flowers to freshen the air. The room itself smelled of a man; of sweat, dust and masculine musk.

 

Youmna helped her to change out of her dusty travelling gown. Curtains were drawn around the balcony, veiling the princess from prying eyes as she bathed. Sibylla watched her maids bustling about, rearranging things to her tastes. Balian had said that they could do whatever they wanted with this suite. She sat with her feet in a basin of water with rose oil floating on the surface, forming a swirling rainbow. The sound of work and construction filtered in from outside; shouts of men, speaking both in Arabic and Latin. Sibylla stood. Making sure that her towel was wrapped securely around her naked body, she stepped over to the hand-carved windows, leaving a trail of wet footprints in her wake. 

Love and Loss

I’ve just escaped from Communication Disorders 261. Honestly, it’s the most boring class ever, and I just totally zone out. Can’t learn anything. The droning did help me to concentrate on something though, so I did manage to write a wee poem. It’s not very good, since I don’t even read poetry.

Love and Loss

I have loved and I have lost.

My days fade into winter frost.

As now I watch the pale sunrise,

I cannot help but recall days gone by.

Those warm spring morns with sparkling dew,

When everything was bright and new.

And there beneath the shady trees,

With fragrant flowers and buzzing bees,

She lay still on the warm firm land,

Her head resting on her hand.

Many a happy day we spent

-For love her hold would not relent-

Romping through the meadows fair,

Until the woody boughs were bare.

Upon a bed of golden leaves,

She released her hold on life’s dry lees.

Still I wandered this cold grey world,

Until the last brown leaf has curled.  

I have loved and I have lost.

My days fade into winter frost.

Well, obviously the narrator is not me. I was thinking about a man who never grew old, and how he would feel if he fell in love with a mortal woman. He feels old, but his body is young, and he cannot die. It’s a sad thing. I wouldn’t want immortality.