Rant on Love

I see familiarity
As closeness without clarity.
When love is deep but trust is not
A deeper sense of faith is sought.
I’m there to love and care and soothe
But damned if I try to foretell his next move.
What more is there in life than love,
However tainted, more real than what’s alleged above.
Should I paint my life and my dreams with love’s face
Just to fall, without warning, out of love, out of grace?
Is it as perfect as it feels? Is it safe to depend?
I’d ask the lord in prayer, if I cared to pretend.
Contentedly in fear of my own mortality,
Not living, just existing for impending fatality.
Can God give what a lover can’t?
Or is this just another irrational rant?