Loss

The tragedy of losing is only if not foretold. It is the unpredicted shudder of loss that steals the essence of humanity. It comes sharp; the tragic, rigid edge of deprivation that cuts the thread and lets the heart drop. The drop is steep, but not fatal. It only exists to simulate the fear from the unexpected twist of fate. It allows one to cultivate the idea of questioning the unrealism of their chance. It separates. It secludes.