the ache of love

we all hurt. we all feel pain.
but it lives in some
it dwells in those
who cannot draw away

it seeps
like a slow stain
across our veins
through our clouds and into our stars

puts them out and
burns us sharply
'til we draw away in pain
into ourselves

then it's work is finished
and sated, it moves on
but should we, too, move on
it returns again to feed

and our breathless lifeless souls
know not the light of day
nor the joy of life
and sadly, die.