Why do feelings still persist? Do they indeed persist or are they mere figments of emotional imagination? Are they meant to be born on their own? Aren’t emotions controlled by people? Are they as free as the eagle soaring the skies? Or the wild horses running across the open plains?
Are emotions enduring? Is their existence that difficult to grasp? How deep should they run? Like the vast ocean beneath the surface? Like the endless sky that the earth falls under? As vast and infinitely expanding as celestial space?
Don’t they ever die? Don’t they ever fade? If they do, are they absolutely gone? Do their fingerprints smudge the heart? Do these smudges eventually clear out without any trace of what has passed? By any chance, does the heart grow invulnerable to emotions’ fingerprints?