A Brief Eternity

Few things have done more damage than love, Maniacally pursued as if a gift from above, There should be a moment we tire of its abuse, And with courage attempt to rid ourselves of. The choice to leave this heavy yoke is of no use, It is one from which very few can be set loose, Still we choose to go on praising this curse, Scanned writings will not mention loves misuse. We are afraid to admit this ultimate joy is adverse, And is nothing but a cruel attempt to rehearse, Our death as if we’re naught but a beast, To be used and discarded as evolution’s hearse. To admit this about this transcendent part of our feast, Lured with honey then mocked as love ceased, As we bleed with only the agony love can bring, We rise, dust off and go forward but decreased. Oh I know how wonderfully love makes us sing, Til crushing words come, “I’m moving on, taking wing,” But then, with objective eyes, you can finally see. Your love is uncovered as a rather common thing. These former loves cannot be souls who together are free, For friends depend on values with which they agree, While love exists without any fit for the glove. Its “perfection” ends, t’was always the way it just had to be.