[Click the picture above to hear music composed by the author]

Nature reigns indifferent

to the suffering of hearts.

Countless souls die young

despite Her arcane arts.

The world's the work of devils?

Or gods who mourn our loss?

Or is it simply Nature?

To the last

my lot I toss.

Not understanding Her

or life's duress,

to marry head and heart,

to love life nonetheless:

That is the lover's 

and  the poet's art,

until they part.