We all know.
We all know that somebody; whose his heart that is made of stone, ice and cold. Or maybe, he does not have a heart at all, we can never be sure. He was no bigger than an average human but, everywhere he crosses, a tidal wave of destruction was left in the wake.
His name is legend among the fearful and the hated. His story unsurpassed, unshakable as it is passed by murmur of those survived. But what do we know is that, he desires for the heart of gold, owned by maidens young and pure. Desire--more like a thirst, really—but he has that kind of insatiable thirst that even the universe cannot fulfill.
Thus then, he began his scheme.
The thieving of your heart.
That’s what I call the love pirate—when they come to your home and raid upon your chest, running away with a part of—if not all—your heart. He takes no heed of the consequences that would follow, only thinking of what’s satisfactorily fulfilling in his ship.
Sometimes he would give you a false sense of security, letting you onboard his ship—but at the time you least expected—will gut your hearts out for his to keep. And as he took your heart away, he pushed you overboard, to drown in at bottom of the sea of sorrows.
I know, as you lie undead—not dead, but not actually living either—in the bottom of your sorrow, you began to realize that jackass love pirate is not completely at fault. It was you too—if you hadn’t give the keys to your heart—the keys that keep your heart locked in your treasure chest—would he have easily taken it?
Why do you trust so easily?
Was it that little void in your heart that you think he’d fill?
Or were you clouded with all the glitters and gold he showered you as you were onboard his ship?
Keep your keys in a safe place next time, guard it with your life, or entrust it to someone who would.
Someone other than a love pirate, of course.
And to all of those love pirates out there, who on their enormous vanity would be reading this, I know—karma will come for you. For the more hearts you take, the more your soul fades away. And since soul is irreplaceable, the more your soul disappears, the weaker you’ll get.
By the time you raided your last maiden‘s heart—you will be as hollow as an abandoned conch shell. And believe me one day, you will meet your match—a bigger, soulless female pirate who will burn your Black Pearl to the ground, and
You will sail no more.