Love, and Nothing But: A Poem
Is its magic potion mixed in heavenly heights
or in volcanic crater of groin so happily insane?
Too sweet not to hurt from those very first sighs
with each orgasmic face expressing joy and pain.
That colorful glow emanating from a soul
a circus of some blinding fireworks and craze
that emotion so capable to deceive and cajole
making us surrender to its nowhere ending maze.
Sweet poison to mind and its every sane reason
secret behind so many wars, ambitions, and fame
in a constant reluctance between freedom and prison
well, who really needs hate, if love can ignite the same.
Source of every beauty, sonnet, and ballet finesse
a reason to be born and sometimes also to die
every poet's enigma impossible to express
with reasons to laugh, and reasons to cry.
Moonlights and roses and all wine combined
cannot spell a right name of that emotion
beyond any word invented by mind
only felt as a sweet devotion.
A true measure of life, without which we're slowly dying
but instantly resurrected by a certain single glance
just one promising smile that leaves us sighing
like rain drop on a dry soil in its joyful dance.
Love...and nothing but.