Heavy booted in the slough of the despond

Please forgive my spelling and structure, it is my first time. Please feel free to rip apart these words. I am trying to learn.

God is love and God is dead.
For many years love was untouchable, love was God.
Love was capable of conquering all, and healing all wounds, or was that was time?
Time could do no harm to true love, love was eternal.
Love was all you needed, all you need is love, said the songs. Hadnt the same people also claimed we all resided in yellow submarines?
Love was a trouble maker, breaking things like hearts, causing eyes to leak and getting between families and friends.
Love caused all sorts of physical ailments, love sickness was common, love caused blindness, bruised souls were numerous due to being love struck.
The love bug bit people everywhere turning them into puppies.
Love was indiscriminate in its attacks, people in sickness and health were targeted.
Love was unpredictable, potion #9 had little success, nor did the Gypsies in trying to direct loves course.
Love had no bank account and cared not for its wealth, love was already gold, it only wanted love in return which, as it turned out this was a very bad investment, bankruptcy always followed.
Love began dying many years ago, people stopped trying, loves frauds were exposed, love began to crumble, no longer a rock. The Taj Mahal as it turns out was a huge tax write off.
Soon love lost all meaning.
Love was rendered disposable for reasons of practicality, love was tiring, annoying, frusterating and no longer worth the effort.
Love did not shine, get you there or comand a six figure income.
Love offered no garentees of comfort, status or security, this alone easily killed any hope for love.
The very definition of love lost all meaning. Saying I love you, I love your new hairdo, I love chocolate icecream and I love what you have done with the place, soon had equal meaning and were uttered with the same conviction.
Love used to fight, to struggle, to suffer for itself and others.
Love could not be turned on or off like a switch.
Love would not settle for anything less than love, yet needed no love in return. It would not hope to find itself in practicality and it would not convince itself that it could, it drifted freely and wonderfully and had nothing to do with logic.
Love only sought the light in itself and others. Love was love lost.
Many draw great comfort from the thought that love is still pure and true. Many still draw great comfort thinking the earth is flat, a fairy pays for teeth and a CocaCola advert brings gifts once a year.
Love is dead, it has been replaced by a practical, calculated gardener who plants an efficient seed. This seed grows fast, overcoming love, love becomes the weed in the garden and is soon rooted out and sprayed with a toxin most deadly.
Love never completely dies in the garden, this is
loves cruelest side, this side is called hope.

jessebyron

 

I liked this,sort of an unusual flow but the ideas you project in it are quite thought provoking.