Love? I Say Nay!

An Offer
By Allen Winters

I know too well my flaws.
You’ve a balance to your introspection.
Your goodness overawes
My dark brooding infection.

Still, I want you to look,
And look well, for our sake, through my lenses.
To reread your heart’s book
Without prudent defenses.

If you like what you see,
Then you will owe the sight to me
And no pride will darken your gaze.

If you find something wrong
Then to my eyes the fault belongs:
No need, then, to change your heart’s ways.

I just want you to know
That the world, hating Christ, does not love you.
But as far as love goes,
Through grace, I know that I do.

"Finally", I said to myself upon finding this oldie but goodie in a dusty tome at the local librarium, "poetry with a logical path of thought". "Or perhaps", I mused deliciously, "it is merely the poetry of the pathological? Hmm?". Well let us dissect this curious creature so that we may offer the author, though he is quite dead, a little post mortem analysis.

Premise A: I am but a depressive lump, reliant on you for the little bit of hope that pushes into my cloud addled stupor.

Premise B: Nevertheless, I think it incumbent on you to enter into my funk with me "without prudent defenses" so that I may show to you the view of yourself that I enjoy.

Premises C and D: You should thank me for this view of your resplendent self, thereby saving yourself from pride, which until you met me, wasn't a temptation for you. -or- You should heap scorn on me for daring to point out that you are not in fact the bee's knees, thereby courting, once again, the temptation of pride.

Premise E: Just so you know, everybody but me hates you. Incidentally, I would hate you too if God himself did not show me what everyone else fails to see.

What a wonderful way to woo! What woman would fail to swoon at the revelation of such an inspired love? Nobody likes you, everybody hates you, would you like to be with a sniveling worm? Fie on thee, miscreant, fine poet though you be! Your verse deserves to die with you. I, POEM MASTER 3000, have given it, and you, a fitting eulogy!