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Isbaah Pirwani Poem
Love,
Ah Love,
What is life but with love?
Is love not a chain of gold around thy heart with a tight hold?
Is love not a spell that makes it impossible to live apart?
Is love not devoting thyself entirely to someone else's command?
Is love not signing your soul in blood till death do you part?
Love is a wisest man's worst decision;
A richest man's most worthless possession;
A bed of roses you say?
O no! Love is the thorn in the rose-bed of life that stabs you the hardest and makes you bleed every day
I shan't label love the 'star to every wand'ring bark'
Nay, it is an alluring charm
masking the most bone-chilling demons of the dark
Love isn't the pretty swirling red of delicious grape wine
No, you'd be wrong.
It is the deepest black, the motive behind every crime.
Is love not the one making you cry, standing over a grave, hoping you'd never had to have said good-bye?
Is love not a wicked curse, that amplifies every feeling, makes every love-sick day worse?
But alas!
What are humans if not built to love?
And what would life be without the cruel being we've come to see as
love.
Copyright © Isbaah Pirwani | Year Posted 2023
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