Love potion number nine

Love,
love is the end of a weary mind
the total end of the philosophy of man
all is lost in the attaining of its return
it prays on the weak and sorrowful soul
beauty its everlasting eternal ally
age the scourge of its tattered house
nothing is spared from its savage course
all are lost to its whimsical games
dreamers pray to stay asleep
for all in life is but a lie
why has hope left this place
to rot in the hands of deep despair
or has he simply forgotten the days
long ago this was not a place that such endured
but tides have long since turned anew
few can see the far off shore
where lies that ancient city of gold
the people ran for fear of death
but something worse has come at last
And its name is loneliness
lord of all for that i weep
tears as bitter as the sea
only grace his ever growing presence
no light to a tunnel that goes on so long
for at the end i surely should see
this tragic tale bloom to nothing but bitter futility