Why do we allow Love to taunt us
With its fickle yet enticing ways?
Why does a faded Love still haunt us,
Even though we set those dreams ablaze?

Love has such an inflated ego,
But for that we must all bear the blame;
As soon as Love beckons, off we go,
Being drawn like a moth to a flame

Why haven't we the will to resist
What we know to be deceptive lies?
Why is it that foolish hearts insist
On toying with the risks of surprise?

And yet the answers, or lack thereof,
Will not change what I know I must do:
I'll make sure my doormat says "Welcome, Love,
My door is always open to you!"