In Love With Love Herself

To love is both a blessing and a curse,
My dear, and you know not which to believe,
In love you are blinded by faith, clinging to a silver lining,
But there cannot be one without the other.
Love is a blessing in its purity and beauty,
She can be found in the darkest of hearts, the coldest of minds,
The force that drives men to their grave with a smile of their face,
She is the force that builds nations, and then burns them to the ground.
None are any wiser in her care.

Love is a curse, found in the mourning of those left to deal with broken hearts,
She is the chaos of war, the cries of battles already lost, and those yet to be won.
She is the silence of lost nations, neglected by time, smothered in greed and hate.
The cold hand that squeezes your heart, the wind that robs you of breath.
The tree that blossoms each spring and whose branch holds the rope that tightens around
your neck as you swing.

Love is both a blessing and a curse.
She is the dawn that escapes the sunrise,
The death of a star as it falls from the sky,
She is the ocean that can drown you in her depths,
And in the same wave, carry you to her shores.
She is the Garden residing in Eden, pure and God-sent.
The Angel who draws you into exile, both thrilling and a disgrace all in one,
She hides in the wasteland where your heart and mind wage war.

Love can move mountains, they say
Yet whom do you think created those obstacles in the first place?
Love is the power that conquers Death, they say
But whom do you think he died for in the first place?
She is the sun; her fire burns woods to the ground,
Only to rebuilds them time and time again.

Love is my weakness, my strength,
I fall prey to her paradox and lay beneath her crushing weight.
I fall in love, —not with people, no—but with the idea of love herself.
With all her faults and perfections—her grace and her damnation.
And she gives and gives, and I take what is not mine, to have, to worship,
Uncaring that she is the pagan in my head and the hell that claims my heart.

And you still attempt to change my heart,
You believe yourself to be the gift that love cannot give.
So I humor you, giving into your seduction and my infatuation
And fall right back into the cursed cycle.
Oh lover, you look so sacred and pure.
Bathed in Hell’s fires and Heaven’s light.
I crave you as death does life, will you be the one to save me?

Oh lover, my lover, how I sing and scream for your attention.
Though we both know love is a blessing and curse, it is a habit we cannot break,
So I sacrifice my dignity for one more taste of the feeling,
And you can give yourself away on the promise of “til death do us part”.
Find me in the chaos of her noise, so I may cling to you in her silence,
And together we begin to understand why hate is not the opposite of love,
But both are godless and powerful in the same ways.

 

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