LOVE IS A MADNESS

Love is a madness, love is a fevered dream,

A white soul lost in a field of scarlet flowers —

Love is a search for the lost, the ever vanishing gleam

Of wings, desires and sorrows and haunted hours.

Will the look return to your eyes, the warmth to your hand?

Love is a doubt, an ache, love is a writhing fear.

Love is a potion drunk when the ship puts out from land,

Rudderless, sails at full, and with none to steer.

The end is a shattered lamp, a drunken seraph asleep,

The upturned face of the drowned on a barren beach.

The glare of noon is o'er us, we are ashamed to weep —

The beginning and end of love are devoid of speech.