Love Poem: The Quest For Love
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Written by: Jeremy Moore

The Quest For Love

The quest for love is probably one of the hardest things a human must endure in their 
tiny existence on earth.  It is the one thing that seems to be the driving force behind the 
turning of the world.  Why is it then so hard to accomplish.  Why is it that people search 
for it so adamantly that they are willing to accept anything for just a piece of it.  Willing to 
take any little touch or attention and call it love.  To go to extremes to be just near it.  No 
matter how big the consequences are that comes along with it.  Yet when this thing, love, 
is found, this thing that has been sought after for so long, it has the potential of so much 
hurt condensed into it.  A snake hiding in the tall grass.  Someday somewhere its just 
waiting to unleash the terror hidden inside.  Waiting to drop it full force on the 
unsuspected like the atom bomb on Hiroshima on families that slept unknowingly in there 
beds.  Yet its built inside us to seek it out.  Built inside us to not quit until we find it.  Its 
like our own self destruction button. Seek, Search, Destroy.  We find it, bath in its glow, 
eventually take it for granted and then in the full stride of life it explodes.  And out of the 
rubble those that survive are left to pick up the pieces and start all over again.  Because 
we do.  We never learn.  We merely stitch together the remaining parts throw a patch 
over the holes and start looking for the next self timing bomb.  Because if we’re not 
looking then we’re decaying into a mass of self loathing and pity.  So in turn  we are 
condemned to keep pursing our own demise.  No matter who you are if you’ve loved then 
at one time you’ve detonated.  It’s a coin one side always comes with the other and 
sooner or later you’ll see both of its faces.  It seems to be a matter of chance of which side 
shows its face more.  If your quiet on a dark night, alone wrapped only in blackness, you 
can hear it calling, beckoning to come to it, a siren singing her alluring song.  Its voice 
riding undetectable waves in the night to come to rest in your head.  A parasite laying its 
eggs.  Eggs that will hatch unnoticed in the future to feed on its host, that has kept them 
warm and safe for so long.  And so the cycle goes perpetuating itself on and on through 
centuries.  Never stopping.  And for this we live.  For this we fight and for this we kill and 
for this we die.