To love or not to love, that is the question.
|Forlorn in demeanor,
Thyself with heart in tatters
Solemn and beseeched,
I'm near the edge
Of loves rapturous foreboding precipice
Shall my torturous soul
Commit it’s self to the abyssal unknowns
Of sacrificial acquiescence to thee?
A force neither trustworthy nor forgiving
As it warms chilled hearts
And soothes with passionate death
Unwitting those of lesser toils within,
True to their salvation,
But blind to its deceit
And yet give reverence to thee
Alas shall I not gaze into eyes of splendor
Nor taste passion upon sweet lips?
Forsake the essence of purity sought,
And forgo righteous happenings within thy being?
To this unknown I ponder
And thus negates my apotheosis of thee
Enlighten my sorrowful remnants of gaiety
And subservient obedience to thee
As was once remembered
At this I shall take that leap of faith
And boldly plunge thyself into the depths
Of your infinite sanctity