Love and Life

Life is short,
And love is shorter,
Yet memories live forever, 
Says the bastard.

They plague souls at night,
As the minds eye replays
The bittersweet memory 
Of a rumble in the sheets, 
The song of the day 
That was the promise of forever, 

All made meaningless
In a passing of breath,
A passing of bodies, 
And a gasping wind, 
Heard, in the pace, in which 
Wills walk wayward 
To secluded spaces. 

Bottles pop, hemp burns,
The house, a bed and breakfast.
Guests check in and out.
No one keeps you company,
Except the thoughts of who 
should’ve kept you company. 

The decadent demands love,
Yet the poet deems them unworthy, 
For none are entitled to what they deserve