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When love began,
Who knew
The acts which
Regret would shadow?

Love, a depurative force,
Grips us unsuspecting fools,
Who hurl our souls
Into it’s depths.

Love never ends,
..So they say.
It stands eternal
As mountains.

I said it wasn’t so.
And forgiveness, withheld,
Hangs between the acts of yesterday
And blighted hopes of tomorrow.

So Love, I said, “no more”
But what puny words
Can stop this esurient tide?
Or my bitter needs and pitiable sadness?

e.
~2003

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