Love ages like a Hollywood starlet,
desperately clinging to her former youth...
when love is young, the mere novelty
makes her strong and passionate.
She glows, she beams, she is breathtaking.
Lovers are fervent when discovering
each other for the first time.
They delight to note that the other laughs
in all the right places and
how they feel most alive when together.
Love is consuming and her fire burns bright.
And without any warning or ado, time passes by.
Suddenly passion and desire are replaced
by complacency, the illness of love.
The eyes of the starlet that once captivated
lose their light.
The lovers' embrace that used to thrill
holds only emptiness.
The starlet is tired, overexposed, and a public annoyance.
Yet still lovers hold together,
always trying to make their hearts remember.
The starlet searches for means to remain
the eternal ingenue.
Love leaves her shadow, a stain on their hearts,
and graps at their souls, flailing, falling, desperate.
They can remember how it was when
love held their lives and souls together.
But lovers change, as all people do and
sometimes they change away.
And love struggles to rekindle,
long after the flame has died out.
Time brings maturity and with maturity comes
sadness, mortality and remorse.
Love grows frail and weak within these shackles
and cries over what has been lost.
And when love loses her strength,
her blessing leaves their lives,
leaving nothing but the memory of love.