We walk the narrow strait ‘tween love and war,

Our senses overcome by noxious lust

And fueled by frenzied grabs for flesh and gore.

We rail against our passion’s fate of dust.

Too hot and fast our fire burns through the night,

Too rich and bright our star lights up the sky.

When morning comes, our embers drained of fight,

A richer, brighter rival turned it shy.

Soon ends our bitter struggle ‘gainst the tide,

Our eyes once filled with ardor close to sea.

A last farewell to love our lungs denied,

The way our mortal bodies are to be.

    To fading dusk we ponder and we stare,

    “How are fine hearts to hold immortal’s glare?”