Why do we hither Romance?

This I must inquire soon

For a troubling topic we take at every stance

this thing called romance, is nothing but a boon

 

Chasing young lovers run down the street

running corner to corner without a care

thinking all this is one special treat

the sweetness of a beet, to much to bear

 

Yes, this thing called Love does exist

There is no denying existence and its creator

but how quickly does this thing called Love betwixt

for soon the tryst encompanies the villainous traitor

 

So why does this thing called love exist?

There is a reason for everything, sure as day

they say it starts with the fall or when they kissed

with no need to desist, they love till they fray

(so they say)

 

Say what you will but there is no such thing as "Good Love"

Love is always full of rotten greed, torture, and tormenting demons

For love is never clean, it may never be the white dove

it can never be talked out of, it is one of our many sinful compulsions