The Love You Learned
Memento Vivere et Memento Mori
I was born a child of politics and timely revolution.
My birth, a product of passion and a little mind pollution.
But even before my conception, two lovers were forced to elope.
For souls in positions such as theirs, it was their only hope.
The pair were young and reckless, and unwanted were their feelings,
By their families, whom I must admit, were unequipped for these dealings.
Disowning their own young, to continue serving the order,
That keeps the whole world turning, all but just a quarter.
The same blood that fought for control of all the sea and land,
Is the exact same blood I see inside my lacerated hand.
A beautiful mixture of warriors and lovers, sisters, brothers, fathers and mothers.
All are as one, dancing together, urging me to tell the others.
“There’s a way to win,” to me, they say.
“If you search inside the place where we stay,
When our time has passed and our bodies decay.
Remember the love you learned along the way,
And, that it can never be taken, only given away.”
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.