Love’s Bitter Descent
I heard you speak of reverie
how love had somehow set you free.
And, for a while, I submit
to the dream and the life of it.
But slowly perfection turned
to something much like misery’s burn.
Where only wretched souls do dance
wishing, wishing for a second chance.
But no, love is long lost and forgotten
a bitter heart is what’s begotten.
For a few love shines the light of truth
for the rest it only gives reproof.
When did the sun quit its song?
And, will the moon be gone for long?
To happiness we could not consent
and so we’re left to love’s bitter descent.