The love that has no name.
                                     A fiery force so strong yet forbidden.
            The most honest love can be divided in to two.                             Those who can’t concieve, blame it on greed.
                               They also accuse of acting on whim and fancy.
                                         Mrs Evans, down the road, thinks it’s for lust.       Hidden on the bookshelf, locked away, descent into dust.
                    I'm not promoting dishonesty, I'm not defending adultery.

                                 But we few, we true seers into our souls, confess.
For you can love more than one, what man could not?