Obsession Killed a Man

Obsession is proud to infer how dreadful love is, How love possessed may dangerous be, How awkward it is to love who doesn’t love thee, How awkward the feeling is of the loveless rose. Though it has courage, to invade a man’s heart, And courage, to sprout as but man is denied. It draws closest those whom the man has tried; It draws closest the feeling of love to be a man’s part. There was a cry that obsession killed a man, Who had too much love, or too much fears: O what love was this that packed his eyes with tears? O what love was this that denied him of his plan? But if he had let his heart lose his love yesterday, His life could still be flowing like a lake – He should’ve, for there was so much at stake To lose than to recover or rather to die that way. He died –yes he died, fighting for what was never his, Even though he always thought it was, Beautiful, a lady of some sensational class, Yet he went ballistic he died, without a taste of her kiss.