Love seeks no glory---or, perhaps goes seeking
only meagre glories of Love's consumate schemes
of the possible : Its fond hopes, fonder dreams,
which have not end, have only their beginning.
Love exists with a sole demon: Uncertainty!
But I know what it is my love and I wanted,
yet my love lay unseen, so unrequited,
and the doubt of "Who, How, When?" has no Pity!
Such a vast array, my heart's voices.
But a sad untold theme and rhyme are mine,
which are un-coursed, un-needed for all time:
there are only "bad" or "worse" choices!
But after all un-necessary steps are removed,
the smoothest, fairest path is towards my beloved.