Foolish Love by burt guillory


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Hopelessly bound
unfettered
by the chains of love's grip
- greatest gift,
fate's cruelest curse.

Wherefore do I weep
at knowing the joy,
the warmth,
at feeling the peace,
the fire.

Wherefore do I weep
unable to complete ,
to be,
unknown the kiss,
the flames.

Wherefore do I weep
at loving not living
seeing not touching
breathing not sharing
holding not loving?

All,
because I, The Fool,
am no more?