Love is an understatement for someone
who knows not what it is;
A congruence of letters that hold no meaning,
Void of any selfless feeling.
It’s best described as indescribable
and yet, as people, we are left to rubble
in the captured vastness of its hidden secrets.
Yet I am left to wonder how great this word can be
Only to speculate its inapplicability for someone like me.
For ages, man has searched for a rightful meaning,
to be only ‘likened’ by someone in fame.
“Love is like a river” as someone has said.
But in this modern age, can we
consider love - dead?
True enough with thorough observation
‘love’ is most likely a practiced illusion.
A triggered gun, loaded with hormones -
lustfully shrouding one’s perception.
It pays me not to find true love
as love is caused by hormonal imbalance.
A puff of smoke, a joint or two,
soon enough that love will bid adieu
And so I’m still in ever-wonder
How love can capture a true man’s thunder.
How love can bring down city walls
and cease the world, the living - All.
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