by Antonia Santiago da Lagos (Dawn Rummel)
I pity those whom Love gives little thought -
They love like skipping stones that kiss the lake
And never see the depths that could be sought.
Such shallow lovers poor companions make.
I pity those whom Love imbues with dreams
Too lofty for base mortals to attain.
They're doomed to chase chimeras' silver gleams
And evermore alone they will remain.
I pity those whom Love makes but a slave
To worship him with poetry and song -
Their offered love is empty as a cave
For only to their god do they belong.
In his more unkind aspects, Love destroys
For we are to a god but little toys.