To fault past lovers is a waste of blame,
For hearts in concert craft their own demise;
Though one may try the other yet by shame
And each to each, lost virtue there decries.
Both souls complicit in the journey’s end,
Malignant action or neglect benign—
While to another’s need each love may tend,
To spark a jealous heart—avenge by crime.
But love so wounded ever bears the scar,
Deceit a trespass no amends erase,
Surrender may then staunch the blood of war
Though not the shameful stain of love’s disgrace.
‘Tis better then to smile and say goodbye
Than have two hearts with rancor ever vie.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.