Shouldn't the stars be blamed and the roses, and the coasts? Why aren't the poems of great love and tales of severe gallantry locked in a distant vault?
Where no soul with surging youth no child with raw ambitions can reach or see them.
For they allow lethal hopes give misplaced illusions. Amuse a few passing breaths and mock for a lifetime.
The strong incoherence between the reality and the beliefs can be unpleasant at times.