"Love is simple,"
said a fool one say
I scoffed and said,
"It is the most dangerous thing."
"Why?" He asked,
looking confused.
My lips curved up
And I said, "Because,"
"Love is blind,
it knows nothing.
Love has no limits.
It roams unbound.
Many have wasted
in search of it.
And those who found it
could not bear the sorrow of its loss.
Wars have been waged.
Many kingdoms were razed.
Mighty souls have been lost.
Glorious empires erased.
For it is love for power,
that makes man a dictator.
And it is love for money,
that makes man a cheater.
Love is a disease
quite similar to cancer
For it spreads slowly
And injures fatally."
He nodded,
Not quite understanding.
I simply shrugged,
And continued walking.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry Collection
PoetryPoetry is art that's felt, not seen. It's a means of painting pictures and emotions through words. This is a collection of the poems I write occasionally. I hope you enjoy.
