Even in Despair

I myself even I,
Watching the distopian view,
Lethargy and melancholy a tea,
Mixed and entwined with bitter cup,
I find the taste to be sweet.

War bells and war horns,
To arms!
Twas better to die upon the field,
Yet I even I stand upon the chalice.
How can this hate be intermingled with love?
Is not love the strongest of emotions?
Then why does it seem such a lie?

I cling to love and in sooth it burns,
Is it better or nobler to indeed be cold and die?
No love to speak of?
A beautiful empty shell indeed is what I see,
No recourse no not even affection,
Yet I love thee?

Who are you that you should ensnare me,
Even with words of love,
And then pitch me away?
Your very smile will fade and there will be nothing left,
My love,
I will always love you even in times of despair,
But not when you are the despair.

Adieu.

c) by Aaron D.