It Is Better To Live Than To Love At All

There once was a man
who thought it was better to love
than to live at all.

I turned to this man
on a moonlit spring night
and pointed towards the heavens above.

He looked at my arm
and looked down to my face
and shook his head from side to side.

'You'll never understand'
said he, as he turned and walked away
humming a tune to himself.

I encountered the man again
this time during the winter
we stood together at the lodge, sipping cider.

As the man gave me a smile
i pointed into the cup that held my cider
after taking a short sip.

'You'll never understand'
said he, as he turned and walked away
humming a tune to himself.

For the third time i saw the man
he was standing alone by a great oak tree
and his head was in the way of his feet.

I accosted him,
'what is wrong, my good friend? '
Tears began to stream down his face.

'Love is gone and i am left
a remnant of its glorious empire
disenchanted and lost in a strange land' said he.

With those words he withdrew a dagger from his belt
and with the quickness only broken love can bring,
he sheathed it in the pumping chambers of his heart.

As the man's body lay on the ground
blood filled the grass beneath him
and all i could do was let out a sigh.

'living life to love is like
taking your heart and asking for it
to be broken into a million pieces

'Yet living life to live
and letting love come and go as it may
allows for the enjoyment of life and love.'

I turned on my heel
and walked away from the corpse.

It is better to live than to love at all.

by Michael Ardizzone

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