Work Text:
Love is the tincture for the soul.
It causes white lies to form on the lips of those most holy,
makes sceptics believe
and lets poor young men find their Mary's...
...or Maria's...or Marietta's...
In love's absence cruel men rule
and a harshness of character takes over charming men.
Whilst evil takes root in others, mothers weep
and gamins roam the street.
Love becomes a curse to those whose masters' souls are parched
And fear of its lack causes hearts to still and lips to seal.
And as one dare not always speak its name so plainly,
there is love hidden in characters and words and pages.
Waiting to be discovered.
Waiting to be brought into the light.
Waiting to seep into the soul of the unsuspecting
until such a time as the 20th century is happy.
And the dead men wake.