Love's Mad Lament Poem by Bob and Alex Eichen

My love is such a fleeting thing,
It never seems to last.
I've placed on finger, many a ring,
But my loves lie in the past.
My love is sad, much like a flame,
At first, so fiery hot.
But doused with fault, and quenched by blame,
Why, then, it blazes, not.
The death of love is such a mess,
Two bodies had been one.
Now, ripped asunder, both are less,
Tis never any fun.
But no one's found their corpses yet,
I won't see those wives again.
And, woe unto that sad regret,
So much to my chagrin.