Will You Love Me Even In Death?

Sometimes I feel uneasy if I haven't written a line for a poem a day.
Then I feel worse if I don't keep going with the line to complete the poem.
Afterwards I finish and feel an awkward satisfaction that distances myself.
Almost the same feeling when you fall in love for the first time.

Being entranced with some person or object.
The thrilling excitement of this individual never known yet.
Whether there is a resonance of rhyme or sequence,
It doesn't matter so long as it feels real enough to prove credence.

As shortly as the line connected may last for,
Will it quickly extend space and time for much more.
Tirelessly and effortlessly in determination I break the silence.
However I wake up and it is all a fantasy that was out of the balance.

One day holding them by the back of their neck,
Closing in for a kiss close to their breath,
Will there finally be a chance to just stop and say with a peck,
If they would love me back the same even in death.