What is love and why do we search for it endlessly, maybe when we find it we do not really know it is found. Gazing endlessly into the mirror reflection of our empty souls, searching until we are satisfied that our heart will be fulfilled again one day, as the demons that possessed us become distorted against time, only then can we show our honest heart!

The honest heart will be the only prize that a soul can determine the beauty within the labyrinth that has been burried seemingly for eternity amongst the ruins of myth, Then all will be known in light as in dark, for a rustic key unlocks a lonelyness within the heart of the tempest.

But beware there is no turning back from the calamity endured if the tempest heart lies broken. Motion subsides dragging the once forlorn to the depths of a forgotten catacomb in forsaken isolation. Motionless, drawing the poison from our broken reflection untill the echos define reality.