Unnecessary

Is there some rule out there that a broken heart has to last; that it must drag you back to memory's lair and remind you of what's come and passed? Is there some cosmic order that this must be the case; that once you cross pain's border, memories never lose the race? Is there some rule out there that good men, good people, have to fall; that God has to laugh in the face of 'fair' and shove us into cruel remembrance's thrall? Is there a reason for all of this, for the sadness, the tears, all the waste and shame; or has the world just been wrought amiss - all we thought real destined to be put to the flame?