123. In reserve
The uncontrollability of love
which makes everyone mad about her
is an interesting phenomenon
since no one can control it,
least of all herself, the very hub,
the heart of innocence,
who casually observes the insanity around her
and simply cannot do anything about it,
having trouble enough to keep on the defensive
to ward off the clumsiness of the rude clouts
whose madness thereby is but added to.
How can I help her, since I love her myself?
All I can do is to at least control and behave myself
and keep my love in humble faithful constancy
to spite the madding crowding turbulence of love.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
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Written on 2006-08-28 at 12:56
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