After the trial

After the trial, and what a trial; 

one manages to stand up again;
life wants to go on.

Odd isn’t it?

To love life even though it takes and takes.

When the raft floats away, we refuse to sink

but clasp life’s hand like a drowning child.

No one buries their beloved and leaps off 

the roof. 
Not even Edgar Allan Poe

after loosing the beautiful Lenore,

the light of wants remained lit in him.

Our bodies, these lamps of desire, endure,
tho awake all night, naked and stiff.