Fate of Love. 

Love portions keeps us in motion

The whole world just to mention

We all live and love to love… 

But maybe, maybe not all of us. 

Some people are so lazy enough to

Experience and tell what love really is. 

It’s one’s choice as love can be so choosey. 


Picking a ripe fruit from the tree

Is of much resemblance to how free

We easily choose on the ‘ripe love’

The outside is as beautiful and sweet smelling

But the inside can be as disgusting and smelly

So what is to blame, the hand that picks… 

Or the mind that drives the hand? 


The strong feeling that we call love

Is the only that matters in us… 

The person involved is just but an object

With much of the sparks that we crave

Not so much in need of them but badly

 Want to experience it all… with little care

 Of how they are, and that’s how blind it is. 


We thank love for the joy it brings and

Hate it all for the bottle of drinks it drains

It will take us to heaven… and hell without

Any care at all, for it is as insane as we are. 

We blame love for it’s cracks…easily forgetting

We dragged ourselves into the mess and

Mending it will depend on the little care

The care that love’s fate takes with. 


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