Who's that yonder all in flames? Draggin' behind him a sack of chains Who's that yonder all in flames? Up jumped the Devil and staked his claim - Nick Cave

A thousand Marys lured me,
To feathered beds and fields of glover,
Bird with crooked wing cast,
Its wicked shadow over,
A bauble moon did mock,
And trinket stars did smile,
Your funeral, my trial.

My baby is alright,
She doesn't mind a bit of dirt,
She says 'Horror vampire bat bite, sex vampire, how I wish those bats would bite',
Woooooah! Bite! Bite! Release the bats!

I don't particularly believe all love is doomed. But I guess, one is usually kinda suffering from some aborted love affair or association, rather than being at the peak of one. I think it's fairly obvious that a lot more suffering goes on in the name of love than the little happiness you can squeeze out of it. But I wouldn't like to dwell on it. Perhaps you could lighten up a bit.