Love is always a brutal act of violence,
The unwilling submit to the stronger,
The aggressive take what they want with defiance,
And the weak suffer for much longer.
Those who are beaten into submission,
Retreat and stare awkwardly from their cave,
The mind is left to suffer contrition,
To lick the wound and dig the grave.
Try if you can to have a wistful view of this inane cavalcade,
For without indifference Life is an unbearable creation.
The temporary gift of this miracle that will fade,
And the fact that Life ends in Death is the great desecration.
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Author:
David Wakeling (
Offline) - Published: February 24th, 2026 01:45
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 17
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
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Comments1
Deeply philosophical as well as poetic this poem to me dives deep into the psyche of winning and loosing justifying and resolving to survive life's losses. It is not just in romance that this is the case and not just with a club. It is metaphoric for being beaten by rejection, raped by a government economy, beaten into submission by public opinion. This fades into acceptance and expectations that lead to a spiritual death of one's very self.
Yes What you have said is so correct.The constant "slings and arrows of outrageous fortune" are intolerable.I appreciate your insoght
You are most welcome David
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