ColdLove is cold, it does not careIf you, in curt contentment wearA shine about your eyes or 'steadA baser element of dread.It might be wrong, it might be fair,But love is not adept to care.For in the name of love we weep,And in the name of love so deep,To prudence we become immune,We foolishly invoke the moon.We call on sprites, we lose concern,We never hark, we never learn.In fact if one were pressed to choose,The lovers' story offers clues;As boundless histories can tellIt's love that casts that violent spellAnd causes man to abjure senseReplacing it with folly hence.If love could turn it might have seenIt
But borra is better :3