Broken Love

I think I must have written this poem after I broke up with my last girlfriend. (Almost six months ago) Ah well, the feeling is still a legitimate feeling. I'm sure I'll feel it at some later date.

A shadow of light,
The ashes of a spark.
That is all that's left over,
When Love dies.

Fragmented reflections of a shattered mirror,
Nothing upon nothing
     Where once there was something.
That's how it feels
When Love fades.

Why? Why must Love exist?
Is Love an angel or a demon?
Is it possible that Love can hate those who love?
Or perhaps Love is jealous.

Jealous Love, leave the decimated hearts be.
Long and tiresome is the rebuilding of a heart.
Too long to be destroyed all over again.
But practice makes perfect, as they say.
So perhaps Love is a teacher.
Teaching people how to mend hearts for that time when the Heart will be ripped and shredded daily -
By children, a spouse, parents.
Perhaps Love is wiser and more vastly aware of Truth than we think...