Honor, duty, compensation
when is that we’ll take the time
to truly love again.
And what, if not the feel of love
have we been living for...?

Life goes on, goes by;
the years become
no more than alibis,
in place of all the love
we could have shared along the way -
if only we believed it to be true.

And based our choices
ever present
just on this -
the love of all that is
that surely must
flow through itself in form...

? Michaelette ?