Does love come but once to our fleeting,
    temporal lives?
Or can our hearts be renewed over
    and over through it?
Are broken hearts forever broken and
    scarred,
Or do they heal, renewed and refreshed
    with every passing moment?

As for me I stand inbetween,
At a cross roads of sorts,
awaiting the proper signal, a bell or a
    whistle or green light,
to know when to go forward.

My heart no longer pounces
    after,
Each and every tugging of my heart, and
    mind,
Instead like a hunter, I wait and
    watch and consider,
When to loose the last of my arrows
    at the object of my desire.  of my quiver
I wonder Is it wrong to consider love this
    way,
Or is this the place where all
    battle scarred hearts dwell stay.