His Hope Is Treacherous Only Whose Love Dies Poem by Patti Masterman

Beware; I'll break your heart, she said
If you ever turn aside
Or break your ways from mine.

He gave his word and hand,
He took her to the steeple;
A simple golden band

Was all that bound his world with hers.
They lived as man and wife,
Their inner world unquiet.

The love a lie, for she craved gold,
A status-seeker to the end-
Her heart stayed cold.

He left her for a warmer one,
Whose eyes held truth for all her days;
Not cold, this one more like the sun.

Beside an angry sea,
In rage, she met the softer one
And told, his love's for me.

She threw the ring out over the waves,
She cursed the promise he had made
And then she seized the other's hand-

I promised then, to break his heart
She said, and dragged her over the cliff
Below, where the waters broke apart.

On rocks they found them, side by side
On one's face tears; the other's dried-
For one still lived, while one had died.

Who lived or died, nobody knows,
He took them both back home with him
And he was never seen again.

They say if you pass by at night,
You'll hear a strange laugh, then a cry;
For one was darkness, one was light.

For life is death, without our love,
And death is long, though ill or well-
But peace is granted seldom, there.

* * *

Title taken from quote by
Michelangelo Buonarroti

'His hope is treacherous only whose love dies
With beauty, which is varying every hour;
But, in chaste hearts uninfluenced by the power
Of outward change, there blooms a deathless flower,
That breathes on earth the air of paradise.'