If a man doesn’t live by his law, then what does he have?
The conservation of love governed every part of my past life
It was simply the most important law
When I witnessed love’s death, I didn’t become suspicious
I didn’t question it against my own law,
The law that states love can never be destroyed,
I didn’t question its death against this law
Was this a vital error? I should have known
my love for this girl is forever constant
But here, I lie, think, wallow
And continue to turn the cogs in my brain,
I must have considered the wider universe around us
We were constantly travelling in different directions;
Our love was stretched, strained and redshifted
Thus I ask when our love was redshifted, was it conserved?
With that I ponder, did our love varnish?
And if completely lost, isn’t that in violation of my law?
I spend each day challenging fallacies and fables
Against proven and tested laws in my arsenal but
How am I even sure that the conversation of love is not
Just a whimsical idea?