To love's an act that would not last; it ends
Akin to light of candle in the night
As time declines, to void itself descends
Within the darkness, lair of no delight.
All things expire to nothing: high and low,
Eternal bliss and sorrow soon shall rest.
The sky and all its glory will forego,
And ground shall fall, a fate it will detest.
When one knows way of love, it will be great,
Enjoyed by men who suffers life and death
For in decay can we appreciate
The feel of flesh, the sweetness warmth of breath
Like every poem, love is quick from birth,
'Cause only then can we behold its worth.
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