Could the same memories that now make me glow
be the same memories that would some day make me low?
Could the very lips that offer naught but ecstasy now
be the very lips that would play conspirators in bringing me down?
Could the very voice which is but music to mine ears
be one day no more than jarring notes that'll cause me tears?
could the tender touch which now awakens all my passions
one day wax revolting and bring upon me grave commotions?
Could the one mortal that stands as my only medication,
be someday the cause of my worst depression?
Could the very object of my insatiable affection
be one day the very weapon of my ultimate destruction?
Could the physician to my often troubled times
one day administer the lethal poison to end my dear life?
"but why?" I ask in hopeless despair,
"does love turns to monstrous despair
