What a sublime impermanence is to be found
In this cavalcade of inanity we know as love.

What once heralded joy, pledged promise divine
Now spawns a spurn that admonishes mine.

What delicious torture a man must bear
If he is of the lover's ilk - Cupid's doll.

What must one do to abolish the scars
Left by the ravages that heartbreak can mar?

What tumult must be borne within the mortal soul
In order to appease the convolutions of the human psyche.

What a breath a malaise for a logic gone dead,
The emotional hierophant left in its stead.

What is the purpose to the words I am writing,
The ramblings so obfuscated on which my time is wasted?

What a beacon they serve to those jaded and lost -
To those that have loved and tasted the cost.