after a hundred years the temple of human passions awoke again to taunt the feeble and outraged with its vague and unartistic relief;
where death, flanked by the graces and the legions of hell overlooks; motherhood, seduction, suicide, the 3 ages of humanity, murder, debauchery, joy, rape, war, and remorse.
it was before the accident. there weren’t a lot of people in the park but we were together, that’s all that mattered; in this despotic monument i realised it was love.
i wasn’t impressed by the size of the work or its disrupted history, however i was glad that it was literally set in stone; reminding me again that in time only our circumstances ever change;
and that passion is the only cure for the beautiful torture of life, just as death is its only outcome.