Of all the different kinds of love.
Some are gentle.
Some are oppressive.
Some come with pre-conditions.
Some come from expectations.
Some come with zesty flavors.
Spices and exotics.
In a secluded corner of an antique mind
time enshrouded locked away in a jailess cell
is unconditional love, a withering shadow,
a remnant exiled and contagious
plagued by insidious expectations
grieving, resolute and alone.
Some try to hide the keys
from the trolls that invade their thoughts
lest the viruses of doubt
penetrate the sanctity of pure intention.
The myth of unconditional love.
The loving heart soon decays
amidst the mistaken belief
that there are no conditions
to unconditional love;
there always are.
One must possess a loving heart,
open to all, not segregated and formed
in irksome contemplation.
When one is not loved back,
he/she loses his/her impulsion.
Emotions then become tempered, irrigated
flattened and distributed in a kind,
of non-vested washed out amusement
drying naked tears in a windless environment.
We become the product of our salient beliefs.
That is why the religious profess
God's love as being unconditional
because it is almost non-existent in man.
There are always conditions,
some obvious, some hidden,
some obscure in confused enigmas.