Will our predescessors be Sheppard's of the Stars?

The ironic schema of us living in the end time is conceited and irrevocably untrue, as there will be no end time for women and men. We are at the beginning and destined to live forever our DNA will become meshed with space and our predescessors will be the Sheppard's of the stars. American corruption will not topple the human race running steadfast though spastically towards the finish line in a three-legged race bound for technological and social gory. Though we may trip tetter sideways or be pushed by primal instincts reason will prevail like a skilled swimmer fighting effortless against the majestic current of human emotion.

The Freudian Death Cycle of Love

Love is a fickle business. Does someone only love you due to circumstance or a specific sequential set of events occurring in time leading to an apex at the crossroads of love, it seems we shall never know, but be that as it may we have a duty to search for why love occurs, because to do so may help us navigate the follies of the heart that cause us such anguish. Time and time again in a Freudian death cycle of love and pain the breaking nah ripping of the heart is the only road that leads to true love in its singular yet multi-facted form that propels us forward in our desire to live life in pursuit of love.

Chocolate wrappers scattered like stars

Forgotten whats its like to be held 
eating alone with no sense of taste or smell
funny how old love remains after the pain drains
like blood pumped into an early grave
men dying who need to be saved

from their selves and their fate. 

Withdrawing off first love 
3 years sober no chance to relapse
withdrawing off first love 
feels like a never-ending heart attack
still so unlucky in love 
I’m still so unlucky in love 
no chance to relapse

Rekindled love always struggles to catch 
charred embers a broken match 
A Faulty star causing a relationship to snap 
Aphrodite muses but in the end always comes back 
Returning to Mars the warrior the fighter the conquerer of love 
With a tender, sexy, sultry line 
drenched in Whiskey wet with wine
chocolate wrappers scattered like stars 
Oh why oh why did Aphrodite Love Mars
Was it Zeus, Hera or the almighty universe guilty of the crime 
Who dared to scribble such flawed hieroglyphics upon the stars. 

Higher Love - You are what you love, not what loves you :)

"It was mine, that love. I owned it. They didn't have the right to take it away. I can love whoever I want. You are what you love, not what loves you. That's what I decided a long time ago" :) (adapted from the film Adaptation) Moss