A phantom oh so simple and complex,
Her beauty doth ensnare and free in one,
This mystery will ere our minds perplex,
Afore and aft the love has thus begun.
The binding of another to yourself,
Does vast accent the differences therein,
As warring poison threatens loving wealth,
The lovers, to dissolve their love, begin.
Yet love is not so evil in itself,
It brings a glory, happiness and joy,
As one puts other interests o’er himself,
And revels in his life, again a boy.
It ever seems the wicked fate of man,
Corrupt the soul, the good that He began.
© Jerusalemrising (Tyler O’Neil)
Written December 6, 2006