We love scorned few behold
The weighted justice of others.
Of which control is not ours.
We are left to the mercy
Of lover's law.
Our pain is ours only.
A virus of inevitability.
Where the antibodies of others
Soothe the swelling self-indulgence
Before it reaches tragedies peak.
This is the history of the heart.
Forever static through time.
Yet always dynamic in its approach.
Weaving tales to humble most.
But all who tread in such open waters
Leave scars and stories to be told.