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Confounded Love
Confounded love,
Or its like.
I cannot stand it
Or bear it.
Songs composed,
Words written,
Poems crafted,
All agree:
Rips you one moment,
Mends you the next;
Lifts you at morn,
Humbles you by day's end.
And for what?
To what end?
Can any use it
Or explain it
Without first
Being broken by it?
Will it ever depart?
Will any ever know peace
Without first knowing strife?
It is the same
As night and day,
Great and small:
If one is no longer,
Nor would the other be.
How trite a thought,
Love. And horrid.
But it calls,
And ceases not.
For none will it quit,
And to all will it
Make itself known.
For it made us,
And surrounds us,
And from it there is no escape!
So we can do nothing
But embrace it,
Blessed love,
Or its like.

By Shawn Thornburg

© 2009 Shawn Thornburg (All rights reserved)


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