Abandon Joy

Love blinds us to her follies
        makes us see her in impossible light
        and everything is good.

Love is a poison that corrupts our perceptions
        and rids us of all reason save every
        waking and sleeping moment
        Her lovely face is etched in undying memory.

Love is nothing more than madness!
        dives us to feats of insanity and stupidity

Composing nonrhythmic garbage like this

Opposed to the eternal fantasy of horrid
        battle fields, of fellows falling
        in unbearable explosions and trenches,
        of the pungent perfume of death, of misery,
        of despair, of pain lingering, sticking the air.

Love makes us do stupid things,
        makes us forget steel birds of prey
        falling from the sky,
        of thundering clap of fire razing
        from armored floating fortresses in the sea,
        of duty, of obligation, of responsibility save
        that which makes her Sol in our system.

This is penned to curse her memory
        to rid her sparkling eyes,
        her sweet smelling perfume
        her voice that echoes constantly
        from our history.

It is a weak faint that shames lessons learned,
        a faint that fools no one, even this heart.

Is there no reason left?
Is there no sanity left?

That this Fool, blinded by Beauty
        would stand down---
        leave in open weakness that all which
        we labored for in past days and nights,

Love will lead a requiem for fallen heroes
        in capes and cowls, now perhaps inevitably
        bound in our memory towards eternal sleep
        less she be generous and understanding
        that All this made us this sanity.

We will abandon our quest for the chair,
        the one that stares towards the vastness
        of stars filled with banks of data
        and the spirit of discovery,
        wrapped in the armor of future legions
        of storm troopers and of Quizarate---
        Imaginings that make sense,
        exchange it All for a more permanent one.

We will we abandon the dark damp cave
        that for many years, cloaked us
        in perpetual light, a staging ground
        in a war not of our own, but mere imaginings!
        Instead wage a campaign in the light darkness
        of civilization.

Will she mean for us to bid farewell
        to these old friends that saved us from despair,
        that sent aid to fill days and nights
        in mad adrenaline rush?

Will Love be the perversion that demands,
        “Abandon youthful Joy?!”
        exchange them for the bondage of reality
        of grounded responsibility,
        of perpetual insanity?

Will this command die sacrificed?
        A ghanima that she may hoist
        her banner upon like a triumphant queen?

Love is evil-incarnate yet, in her we find
        that which blinds us shining ever so bright

Our Flag flies gladly placed in her service,
        A Flag flown always proud,
        evolved from a mindless monstrosity
        born of reckless youth, of wild hopes
        and of easily abandoned imagination

A Coriolis Storm, corrupted, perverted,
        twisted towards a more tangible,
        more noble aspiration and grounded reality.