Love Is...

Love is as the tides
that teases the patience of empty harbours
an aroma of infinite wiles
that vanishes as often as fickle vapours.

Love is a bridge at times
that seeks to connect opposing shores
only to fall as certain as rhymes
and dash to pieces what hopes was before.

Love is a new beginning
a tale to start the futures to come
only to lead to further endings
and drown the future in empty chasms.

Love is at times a boon
the gift of passion that lifts the gloom
but in the end it's over too soon
a prelude to pain in history's tombs.

Love is just a guise
that we dress our pregnant pride
an emotion doomed by pretty lies
a borrowed shade whilst rains subside.

Love is a beggar's call
dressed in rags of feined innocence
to beg the scraps and table fall
and dread the strength of self-indulgence.

Love is all in all a lie
that we tell ourselves to ease our sins
for none admits their selfish wiles
solitary fears and lonely pains.

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