The Tragedy of Love

Love has had the tragic past
To be first, embarked on by two
Who, with the passion broke
The skin of pleasant womb
And flower petals meet.
And indulgent in amatory’s
Naked touch, was quaffed
For the allure of paramour’s touch.

Then, love had been a vile thing
Which censored from the lay
Was called most wretched and worthless thing;
A vile state of unhappy charm
Which struck a boy or girl
And would cause their life such great harm.
For, worst was when loveless wed
The man or woman would find the naked breast
Of lover, and undawned their raiment
They fell to lusty show of love’s 
Chemical bliss. And therefore,
Love was sacrilegiously vile
In the eyes of man, as a thing uncouth
And cursèd, which ruined marriage vows.

Then, once again, love unbridled 
Was to be forsaken once again
When man and woman through emotion’s bliss
Would fornicate one with another
Their vile prick dipped in the ink
Of woman or man, which love became
A chemical once again, never to have been committed
To one or the other---nay, just a vile thing
Forsaken, indulged in, callously forgotten
Once it dimmed and the two in heated sweat
Found the chemicals at last had disappeared
They leave one another, looking for the blasted heat
With one again, leaving children to the dogs.

It is all sacrilege.