Transient Love

A Year of Sonnets — 064/365

Photo by Josh Marshall on Unsplash

Perhaps you are the starlight lost,
the victory at ungodly cost,
the lie oft told to ease our fears,
a solace come from shedding tears,
a promise finally laid to rest —

Forget the urge to be the best.
Accept the grace, howe’er it falls,
a gift from Heaven’s stoic halls,
it doesn’t ease the empty ache
nor heal the sharp, bloody mistake
that once was love, but then we lose
the people that we dare to choose.
It’s all a game, whate’er we say,
the universe sweeps it away.