Trapped between the inside out, as vulnerable as a child’s nerve
And the outside in, as trustworthy as a spy’s fear.
Love glimmers like an orange sun on a self-destructive world
Where everyone accuses the next man of betraying God.
The gradient of love fades from one hour to another
From darkness within it fades into the darkness without
To the light – without the love, within is wrong;
To the light – within the love, without is hated.
I cannot win, no love of any kind is good;
No love is blessed and loneliness is king
And if I love what I love, I am wrong
And if I do not love what I love, I am right.
Yet despite the fiery curses in which I wither
Love grows for who love grows, great or small, and that is the nature of love.