I Could Never Write a Love Song

The choice is clear; I know the only thing
For anything is love. No matter what
The claims of either side may be, we sing
Creation into nothingness, and cut
The chords that sing inside us unless we
In flowing fifths or even fourths, our choice,
Addend the primal song of love. We’re free
To make each note our own; but not to voice
Another song. For every time the score
Is scribed by authors other than the Light,
The Love, our Love Himself, Who sings the door
To every mortal good, Who shines our bright
Beyond; we clang and scratch an awful mess;
We choose ourselves, becoming so much less.

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You can listen to me read it here:
https://soundcloud.com/benwhitepoetry/i-could-never-write-a-love