Monday, 30 March 2015

Love rots in the rain

Love, they say, conquers all…
Does it?
Does it, my friend? Does it?
Then let love find a way!
The world stares me in the eye and laughs, and mocks.
Love is a wisp of grass, it says.
It dries in the sun,
It rots in the rain,
It withstands nothing,
It withers in pain.

What love do you speak of? The world asks with a laugh.
My brave arguments die in my throat.
I lay down my arms.

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