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Rated: E · Poetry · Philosophy · #1554378
My sort-of view on love and the meaninglessness of life
IN THE END

Waves lap at the shattered shore
where journeys of forgotten lore
ended with the trumpets' sound
that ran it into the misty ground.

Not much later, naught was left.
Nothing survives Time's lofty heft.
The world goes on, but life does not.
The past is only what time forgot.

As much so is mine own life:
it matters not what manner of strife
that runs through my mind and through my heart
as it is pierced by Cupid's dart.

So one must wonder, what is true?
The myth of Love or what we do?
In the end it matters not,
for victory is what time has got.

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