Love is not a bed of roses, it never had been

It’s difficult and dangerous, a perplexing little mince.

What we imagine of it and what there is,

is not the same being told ever since.

Love is like a storm of the ocean,

Sheer soul ripping and heart numbing.

A child when he’s growing

Love is everyone and everything.

By the feeders and by all known unknown

In the toys and lies largely unaware.

Then we grow and so does the love,

But what actually breeds is the desire and flare.

Its not the mind or heart or eyes,

I know not that part where it goes and flows.

The feeling of beholding something so beautiful,

As is perceived sometime someday by all earthly souls.

The glow in their eyes, the feeling of losing control

The time slowing down alas, the heart beating incessant.

Effortless recollection of that moment lifelong

Where breathing is to be remembered in the times present.

Blessed are those who acquire ‘what’ they desire

And divinity when its not a what but ‘who’

Very few among the trillions existing

But is that enough for those few too!

I live in these times, breathing and talking,

I know not of this love in times before me.

As so the rumors tell it was eternal and pure,

The stories or truth, not mine to see.

Its easy for two souls to come together,

Attraction begets attraction and love abound.

The initial giggles but the further swindles,

And then the emptiness inside beloveds profound.

Nobody knows least of all myself,

As to what this heart or that part desired.

The one that kept those beautiful feelings,

Or perhaps the innocence long lost admired.

The next day I meet someone,

The flame long doused ignites again.

The minim smile on the lips, the goosebumps underneath,

The world looks whole and loveable again.

We fool ourselves running from it,

and get fooled into going deeper and deep.

The flame, the smile, the goosebumps, the world,

Against us, against conscience and against our peace.

The trap is set, the sides created,

the time of choice when one’s most weary.

Broken and angry and afraid to choose,

most vulnerable to err, lifelong to carry.

No suggestion works, no support helps,

The brain’s shut down and the heart’s dead

Breathing and weeping with no hopes ahead,

Then somebody asks to smile and move on ahead.

One thinks its love when admiration ensued,

One thinks its love when relationship began,

One thinks its love when the other spark reignited,

And now one thinks its dreadful to love ever again.

I love you but the beloved loves someone else,

Someone else in love already and yet forlorn.

No one can guide as no one knows,

These are deep waters yet unchartered and unknown.

No matter whatsoever Life is a gift,

And underneath it is where the love confides.

And to strive towards happiness shall be the goal,

For love is life where the happiness resides.