eath is a little pinprick. Just a jab.
Nothing to fear. No suffering. No pain
Compared to the stern, stupefying stab
Of loneliness. Some acid to the brain
Will melt away that lingering abhorrence;
Then, all at once, by fiat from above,
Transcendence; for we'll taste tempestuous torrents
Of desire. For you, eternal love;
For me, mere transience; for I consume
And what was beautiful becomes old bones
And flesh, and rots in a suburban room,
While your response to my perfervid moans
Is not to speak at all. Oh stay, oh stay --
Not like the rest -- True love does not decay!