Email Poem

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 Do We Bleed Not, In That We Love
 As Blades, As Roses, Time Is As Fleeting As A Dove
 And As The Sand Sifts The Moments Out The Hourglass
 And Love Finds It's Way, Just As The Blade Swinging In Inertial Mass
 F=m a , This The Sword Knows
 For Passionate Lovers, In War, In Crowns With Thorns
 Where The Sweet Scents Of Affection Serenade The Soul
 Just As Battle Scars From Pangs Of War,
 Yet, Nothing Truly Is Ever Lost
 When You Turn Pain To Bards,
 Whether Battlefields Or Romance, Matters Not
 Wounded By The Cold Piercing Steel Tip Of Fraught,
 And The Mists Of Time Take It's Course
 And The Memories Are Stained With Pricks And Bones,
 With Life Comes Lessons, Regressions And Discourse
 In Symphonies Of Valor And Heartbreak And Remorse,
 Nothing Unfettered, Nothing Gained, In Devotion, In Lament With Swords
 Through Friendships, Through Amours
 So Bend the Will Of Hatred And Anger Like A Scimitar, Lay Down The Glaive
 And Plant The Seed For Better Days

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