What of love makes it so chimerical?
The perfection of a rose in it's youth
Fades to the husk of what was miracle
To show the hideous and blinding truth.

The same it is with love; in it's season
More beautiful than any soft crimson rose.
What is this, the horrifying reason
Behind the first signs a young lover shows?

Why must this love, so perfect in its birth,
Betray its longevity by the same
And therefore destroy itself and its worth;
The proverbial moth to white fire flame.

A painting beautiful in conception
Wears thin and wane like Luna's deception.


Penned by my hand on the 15th of Haernos, in the year 157 MA.