It matters not that love was created and
Invented about the wit and humour of man
It matters not that the night shall wax and wane
That the tide shall take its leave of us
And return in due time
It matters not that love requires an epiphany
It matters not that love is a sophist, a masochist and a sadist
For it had been founded upon the heart of man
Of which hath the attention span of shit
That love shall wilt
It matters not
For I am a woman
And I go by no man's rules
I shall love thee 'til my last breath
I shall love thee with a kind of love
That besieges a woman
Of which is immortal
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