To Love
To love
Is to dance under the rain of an empty street
While the storms are raging
Not even a glimpse of light but lightning
But still, the thunder sings a sweet melodyTo love
Is to float in the middle of a thousand feet ocean
Oblivious of what creatures lie deep down
Not even a shiver from the coldness of the sea
But still, warmth envelops your bodyTo love
Is to stand on the both ends of a never-ending pole
While it shakes in every little step
Not even a milimeter in each boundaries touch
But still, stands firm of a wobbling legsTo love
Is to foolishly gamble an impossible possibility
While investing all that you have
Not even leaving a tiny piece for yourself
But still, recklessly gives it allBut,
To love
Is to accept
That you cannot dance
On a storm foreverTo love
Is to surrender
A cold fight
That the warmth
Is nothing but finite
Comes a time
You'll both drown togetherTo love
Is to learn
To let go of the poles
That keeps your heart
Far from each other
At the very start,
None should ever existedTo love
Is to realize
To always keep a part for yourself
And not give everything awayAnd lastly,
To love
You must first love yourself
Love for the sake of loving,
Do not love just for the sake,
Of being loved.#
YOU ARE READING
The Passionate Corpse
PoetryCorpses are gross, dirty and foul-smelling. At times, they're scary to look at. But curiousity enthralls upon something unpleasant. Amidst the ugliness, it satisfies the dark part of our soul-not meant to be human. Something about it is unnatural...