Love At the End of All Things

Forsooth the world doth crumble 'neath our feet

A world at war with all the winds and air

And with each other as we each do meet.

The sky grows dark, and best we do prepare,

For winter grows the colder, and the heat

Doth grow the hotter, so we best beware.

I tire of life, yet dodge sweet death concrete.

I lose what I love I had, and when to care.

-

But in the desperate hour, she doth arrive,

A'stepping through the breezeway, catching eyes.

And all the men assemble like a hive,

But she heads straight for me; my body dies.

I had assumed I was beyond this strive,

But we are both consumed with love's sweet tries.