Divide

A tale of two lovers is bereft a smile,
but never completely of happiness;
a tale of two lovers is a switch or a dial,
turned with capricious scarcity.

Two lovers meet just as they always do,
as two pawns on a chessboard cross paths;
one takes the other, or they take each other,
but that small spark cannot last.

Separated by distance and desire,
they yearn to return to the board; 
so that they might cross paths again
and feel that spark once more.

Distance makes the heart grow fonder, so they say,
 but that is certainly not true;
distance makes the heart tremble with isolation,
and wish for nothing else but you.

Distance is anathema to the two lovers,
and that they certainly know;
they want to bridge the distance by any means,
but the distance separates them even more.

Soon they realize their problem,
and resign to their local lives once more;
the lovers forget the loved,
but the mind weighhs heavily against the heart.

An idle mind is man's greatest treasure,
but for a lover it is a poison;
his mind will wander away from life as it is,
and resign itself into her embrace.

The mind will always know its desires
even when the heart does not;
and his mind will always desire her,
but his heart will beat reluctance.

The two lovers, separated by distance
are destined to meet once more?
They should say no, no, not once more,
because once will never be enough.