There is no greater inspiration

Than the pain in love compromised

No smaller force would compel

For silence,

For violence


Nothing worse than the aching of separation

Such confusion derived

Beauty in that:


Every flower petal fell-

As if life were grim

And we are in hell-


The irony, how muscles ache for air,

But exposed to such, feels pain

-Too much desire

For loves burning fire

We hold it too close, try to put it inside,

It can't touch our flesh

For in extremity doth it reside:

To touch love is death

To see beauty is undeserved

-to feel joy is momentary

We wish for what we cannot have

There is no greater inspiration

To try for it

And die for it