Ode to Human Emotion

Love does not hold the heart as love alone.

Without the dreaded guest known as hate,

Love is much less than a host. 

More of a tattered ideal

That spawns in our minds 

And trickles and pours into the soul

Much like the needed, yet unwanted hatred

That rises up, filling the air like a toxic fume.

Fogging the windows before our eyes,

Love brands us a fool.

Who am I to follow my heart

When my mind is all the wiser?

It seems that neither can speak the truth,

Leaving me not a helpful thought,

But the sinking weight of fate.

As new life blooms inside my heart, 

My mind is left with a morsel of peace,

Only to be sent to ruins.

Mortal figures are no match 

For the wandering ways of love.

Alas, the soul delves through a maze of passion

With infinite heights and degrees

And readies itself for what is to come.

Released from the labyrinth unscathed.  

The End

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