We’re Doomed

A poem about hopeless love

We live only to die, And we exist to end. The sun will burn out, Not all wounds will mend.

But love – it’s loud, Echoes deep into space. It resonates and marks, And leaves its own trace.

But you, well, you said, We have no such hope. So why keep on falling, When you’ve severed the rope?

All we stand here to gain, Are deep wounds and sharp aches. Losing all of our time, To these same old mistakes.

Still. I refuse to believe, That we’ll leave this for dead. But the choice is your own, “We’re doomed,” you said.