Irony

Now you’ve gone away to hide yourself;
Afraid I’m like the spectres that used to appear.
But alone, even in the brightest room,
How will you see yourself without a mirror?

You said, “But doing this could kill us both
When we’re lost and trying to find our way.”
Then I looked into your eyes and said,
“But dear, we’ll both die anyway.

Why can’t we make this one last day
One that is worth remembering?
Why try avoiding all our pain
When it makes life worth living?
Dearest, I know that you’re afraid,
But this could be worth our blood.
The sanguine irony is this:
Your perfect fear casts out love.”