Oh love… how tender you appear
With the fairest of guises
You set a hero upon a fools pedestal
A king upon a broken throne
A lonely man to walk a crowded street
A whore to kiss a prophet’s feet
Yet still we pursue
That which we can never truly keep
For love is the cruelest master of all
Rejoicing in our every triumph
Commiserating our every fall
And even in the darkest hour
Love remains, a head above us all
© Julie Gray
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