The Wretchedness That Is Love

As I sit in the night with my thoughts asunder,

A curious feeling I felt that fleeted without delay.

There upon the wind was this wretched wonder,

This thing I hated but needed to stay.

The night grew long and I could not escape this cogitation,

What explanation of man to need such a foul emotion.

And here inside me a slight palpitation,

Of what lingered from feelings I took notion.

This horrid desire that drives us mad,

The one ecstasy we can not escape.

Men can only wish of things they had,

And of this foul emotion that is our fate.