They told me to write again
I said I cannot
The pain would be to great
It is only an account of suffering

They told me to write different
Write about something pleasant
They love a cheesy romance
Happy ending and all

I cannot write of joy
Suffering consumes my heart
Pain flows through my veins
And stains paper with true romance

Like Pip and Estelle
I love a black heart
I am never to be rewarded
With the love of my love

Like Jay and Daisy
My love chose another
My heart ripped from my chest
I am left for dead

True love knows little joy
Happiness is brief
Suffering is great
Pain is indefinite

Because true love is to suffer
On another’s account
To love despite suffering
To love no matter what

Star-crossed lovers have little hope
But I will continue to write
Only of our suffering love
My muse is not lost