Where Love Was Hurled

The aching heart, still unfulfilled

sets out across the widening world

in search of love it cannot build,

and though its hopes are barely willed,

it hurls itself where love was hurled.

But fate is brewing stormy weather;

rough winds and bitter waters break

past every border of the ache

the poor heart hardly could foresee.

Yet, still it will not quit the chase,

it carries wit and stranger fire,

and climbs, still burning, ever higher. 

It laughs at fate straight in the face

and keeps on fighting toward love’s grace.

©2026, Vasiliki Papadopoulou