C

Lover, do we question love,
That thing that is our bind?
Do we wonder at its purpose
Or the spurning of its mind?
Lovely, do you weep beyond
The hurt that once was lain?
So soon yet seen so far away
By those who've lost their pain...
Yet, here, love claims to give renewal
To those whose bones are dry,
But what does motivate the thing
That feels no pain, nor dies?
What trust must we then tend to it?
What time and life confess?
What hate and rage bequeath from it?
What less than lonely death?
Give all, and never less than all.
Give trust and life entire
For love, The Great Destroyer,
Sends all pain in to the Fire.