Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2014
Love is a thing most wretched vile,
hear me now for what I say is true.
A shattered soul, an empty smile
is all that will remain of you.

If Love should be when the birds would sing,
then a crow I must be.
If Love doth joy from the heart forth-bring
then mine is but a lonesome cavity.

If one should drink from that poisoned spring
to prove absurdity,
then one will cling to suffering
for neigh eternity.

Yet know this about Love's bittersweet breath:
If it is pure, it will outlast even death.
Jacobus Frederik Le Roux
Written by
Jacobus Frederik Le Roux  Pretoria, South Africa
(Pretoria, South Africa)   
5.8k
   Thoughtful
Please log in to view and add comments on poems