Once falsehoods abound and convictions
cease and hopes are hamstrung and
possibilities frustrated and optimisms
obliterated, would you yet love me?
Once the roses have withered and the bees
quit buzzing and the songbirds stopped
singing and the crops yield nothing, would
you yet love me?
Once the storms have abated and the
grounds have ceased grumbling and the
volcanoes have ruptured and the mountains
stopped tumbling, would you yet love me?
Once the rivers run dry and the oceans
dwindle and the moon runs its course and
the earth stops spinning and the distant
stars cease shimmering, would you yet
love me?
Would you yet love me, beloved, when all
all has come to naught?
🚶♂️
©dead_poet
D