Please God, Let It Be Love Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

It breaks my pericardium,
if not my heart.
To hear,
that whispers were
the work of Satan,
he,
and his kind,
conspired to destroy
what human hands
had built
in record time.
But with a mind,
that knew determination
and what it means
to fall,
into the silken covers
of genuine love.

Now it remains to see,
if Satan wins,
if sordid games
and envy will undo
what was ordained
and what must be.

The Cantadora of the past
has come to oversee,
to lend a hand,
there is no power that could be
a force to blow apart
what was a chance encounter
of two souls,
and what,
by any measures has to be
a match
that would defy
all unions forged
by God and his grand crew.
If it is love
it must prevail,
and so it will.