A Certainty

love withers on the vine of fate
as corrosive as the poison of time
it drinks and exhales life to survive
it clings to the tomorrows of unknown sunsets

the seasons change without a whisper of a warning
and the tears rain from the torn cloaks of a once bright brocade
the creeping numbness of an inevitability of its coming
and everything vanishes as if it never ever existed