The Metamorphosing Crime of Poisonwood Heights

March 3, 2012
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What is love, but a disease without a cure
Where your lover's sins, are what you endure
What is love, but your own worst mistake?
Where your daughters' lives, are the ones at stake

What is love, but a raging dog
Whose love, puts you in a fog
What is love, but the dog's killing bite?
Where darkness, takes the place of light

What is love, but a self-affliction?
Your one, and only, true addiction
What is love, but a prison of desires?
Where in place of wardens, you have liars

What is love, but your own worst crime
Where guilt, takes the place of grime
What is love, but the crushing blow
Where you find yourself, sinking low

Who you love, it matters not
Give a little, lose a lot

For Heathcliff, his love was his one, true curse
His devotion to Cathy – even worse
She took his heart, and held on tight
Even in death, she continued to fight

As for Orleanna, she fell for a priest
Who was selfish and spoiled, to say the least
Off to the Congo, the Price family went
Where the life of their daughter, would soon be spent

Now Raskolnikov, he's a tricky one
He was meant to suffer, for what he had done
But everything would have be turned out fine
If he had not met Sonia, a woman benign

Gregor, he was doomed from the start
He spent too much time, from his family apart
Once he was feeble, and useless to them
They locked him away, like a man you'd condemn

So what is love, this poison we crave?
A poison that turns you into a slave
Can we defeat it? Is there an end?
Or is it useless to try and defend?
We've seen what happened, we know it all
Fall in love and soon you'll fall

Just ask anyone, they'll say the same
Love, was meant to maim
Once you fall in love, you can't escape
It's your one, and only, honest mistake





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