Love is a beautiful thing

Love was innocent until she was pranked
As tender as she was,
Love was made a fool amidst the dusk
She whined and yearn to be loved even when she was love herself

Without no iota of doubt
Love was tossed to and fro and to this end
Consciousness in her inn was in shambles and disarray

It was on a faithful Sunday
The time just before the autumns showed up
Love opened her heart to embrace the rarity of her name
With deep innocency
Just like a sheep led to the slaughter
Love embraced the lies and sheepishly fell headlong
She probably thought everyone were as sincere as she was

‘It is over’ was the last straw that broke in twain the back of the camel
First she thought those words were harmless pranks
Until it became glaring that the ‘it’s over’ that was spoken to her
Was the reality she would have to face

Love looked to the North, East, South
And perhaps thought the West to be an effort in futility
Like a widow whose husband is snatched by the cold hands of death
She cried and mourned and refused to be comforted

Her crown wears a frown
She vows never to forgive herself for being so gullible.

‘Never will I be a fool again’ she kept telling her wounded heart…

© Victor Eshiet

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