Who could predict what we had carved in stone
To be so temporary?
No one can blame me of my inquiry:
Will all love be doomed if made with love most arbitrary?

Can love be love if it fails repeatedly?
To be given up seems the most wise answer..
For repetition ends in failure.
When repetition ends will you blame me to start over?

Why if no one believes..
Could not even my loved one keep..
Truth will not shine, though I cannot help
But be the constant among the harsh blows.

How can this love be?
Or may be it not..
But it be sweet sorrow, bitter joy,
That won't last but yet still lingers...

Woe to me, for I know not when to refrain...
Although I fear that my faithful enduring
Be in vain.