Nirvana is a silly
Pursuit so long as there’s
A semblance of hope
Of love, of love, of love.

It is in our nature
(Instinct or policy)
To cling to love,
To cling to the thrill, though
Love’s brevity is suffering,

An expectation of illusion,
A small, fleeting comfort,
An elusive constant in
Our chaos, our violence.

We pine, we obsess,
We facilitate negotiations,
Then sanction the torment.
Tell me, tell me!
There is no alternative
To love, to love, to love.