If hearts had eyes to see before they'd bind,
Then broken vows would leave no hearts to bleed.
If mortal hands could write what fate designed,
No soul would know a truly bitter deed.
A glance can snare the heart within its gaze,
And love's sweet thieves would find no hearts to steal.
If service true could earn love's gentle praise,
Then faithful lovers would no sorrow feel.
But hearts are blind, and fate a hidden scroll,
And eyes can lie with promises untrue.
Love's service oft demands a heavy toll,
And joy and sorrow constantly ensue.
So let us love, though pain may be the cost,
For in that love, the truest gain is crossed.