What is this thing that they call love?

As pure and innocent as the dove

And if I'm alive how do I tell?

It seems sometimes like this earths a hell

This is my gift and yet my curse

Floating through life with lips ever pursed

While scenes of war dance through my head

Victims of violence not yet dead

And while I can not be apart

From my dashing and brave of heart

I think of life as one big game

That has suddenly bored me and gotten lame

And as I end this sorrowing rhyme

Of a life forgotten in hate and crime

I tell you to remember this

We will one day not be missed

And even though we will stand tall

Until the mighty mountains fall

We will one day fall as well

But when that will be

I can never tell