The futility of worldly love

I thought I loved you more,
But you too were sure
of your love as more pure,
The testing time but played smart cards,
and beat illusions by several yards,
With its neutral chime
wrote it its own rhyme,
Bared, naked, trimmed we stand,
No longer holding each other's hand,
Each other's faults we now weigh,
having eaten and spent the golden ray.

The inflated paradise
and the infatuated sighs
now cut down to paltry size.

The card castle on the heap of lies
sobbing with painful cries
and burning sighs,--
Sweet to sour,
Heavens to teary parting hour,
We humans first make
then break,
First make love
then eagle turns the former dove
and make war
for some negative excitement more;--
Just a long series of
little births and deaths,
Tiny beginnings and endings,
All these links form the final chain
between 
the first birth and the last death.