• Time is but an illusion forced upon us by our hearts,
    We long to see those since gone from us and those yet to be,
    And every time our hearts ask for air we breathe allowing time to move on even faster,
    The years eventually stroll by and yet my heart yearns for something more,
    Not for air or to breathe but something for which I cannot explain,
    It screams her name and begs me to be with her and yet I can not hear such cries of passion,
    These torturous bellows of an insatiable thirst to be with the one I love,
    And yet does her heart feel the same towards me?
    Would my heart's efforts to win her hand be tossed aside,
    I would never allow this to happen and this I do decree,
    But passion is such a gentle and comforting beast that it continues to lure me,
    Allows me to be with it and will rip my heart out from my very chest at the first chance it gets,
    This is the true nature of love,
    Sadness regret jealousy greed tragedy all are other words for that evil love,
    It wishes to use me and and bend me to its own desires,
    But I protest against said desires wanting my own to be ufilled,
    And alas my heart gets shattered and the girl I loved betrayed me and thus i shall never love again