Out of Wedlock

Love's thunder rolls,
whilst blackening souls;
a paradise, for sinners.
Where golden rings
are trifling things
and losers can be winners.

Those hasty vows
beneath the boughs,
of leafless timber rotted,
where lustful vine,
appeared divine
to those, who were besotted.

Are lessons learned
by lovers spurned,
so easily forgotten
that they proceed,
to willful breed
what's clearly misbegotten