Love & Cigaretes by Borice B - HTML preview

*Ecclesiastes*

What is the point of love,

if all ends in dust?

I chased the wind in her laughter,

built castles of sighs,

gathered every sunset into my arms

and still, it all slipped away.

Vanity, vanity, all is vanity

yet I would chase her again,

for even fleeting joy,

is joy.