Beloved

It is not love to love a thing
 That dies for such a death may bring
 Decrease in what you thought was love
 When comes to pass the painful sting
 Of time. But love is what may grow
 As separation floods the soul 
 With tears bear the vessel of
 Your longing for the love you know
 But how can separation be
 When eyes have never been to see
 What we believe is our beloved?
 It follows then that we and he
 Have met before the birth of time
 Before the birth of pain and rhyme
 For we know what we feel inside
 Is from a separation’s tide