Whoever thought that love would last forever

May not have known of ruin’s varied forms,

For all things born of earth are doomed to sever

As surely as the sun will rise each morn.

Inception is the point we start our dying

For life is but the span ‘twixt birth and death,

Illusions of the heart forever vying

For fleeting proof in every mortal breath.

But life is life; the soul gives life its meaning—

And senses five bestow what psyches see

So that gestalt that mingles with our being

Is what we are and what we’ll ever be.

What matters more is measured not by span…

But in the time when hearts and souls were one.