No Consolation For love

The riddle of the universe deepens

with a pen daub in ink thickens

The world itself out chickens

There is no idea that says love is strong

nor the life is dependent upon a song

It barely chuckles that lovers are strangers

having a loose belly that sickens with dangers

of living alone on this cape of existence

no doubt the God is denied as if by solemn

promise to die the death that is anything but mortal

And immortality of Physics all but sickens

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