All Is Fair

He, there, lived as any
Without worry, without care
But then she came, he wasn't prepared.
The fruits of love, of war, were plenty

And God, up there, full of grace
Without a doubt, without delay
Gave them fruits, happy they stayed.
The fruits of war, though, had their place.

Fights, here, and there arose
Without struggle, without objection
And they unused to war's infection
The fruits themselves became their foes.

Love, everywhere, shared then tossed
Without regard, without concern
They fed on war, which was also returned,
And God's up there when humanity's lost.