parting so sour
the taste is bitter
love deathly addicting
it's power made to sway
the ache of defeat is a formidable foe
when parting is sour with bitterness in tow
the tomb of love from which I stand
made to stay like an empty hand
though I've lived there for a while
the aching stays, making it hard to smile
while all I say is true, I do not condemn love
for it's wonderful wings soar like a dove
made to soar, but not to stay
eventually the dove has to pay
this is the truth behind love
though knowing this do not falter
continue to let it soar like a dove