Another age-old tale
of love too frail
to save two lives torn
by love's self-destructive scorn.

If love were
a worn leather chest plate
doubt would be a
piercing sword
to seal a lover's fate.

Trust, a slippery step
on a steep climb
that if her feet would falter
she would never again be mine.

Has this calloused heart
become too cruel?
but what of
once deceived
and twice a fool.

So I have learned
that Love is not blind.
For the faint flame
of love in one's eye
slowly starts to die

Never again can i stare lovingly
For all I have is uncertainty
She starts to tear when I am near

For my stare forever holds
The weight of
"what if?"