What’s Love

What’s love but a silly worn out phrase

What’s Love


What’s love but a silly worn out phrase
It binds you with chains concealed in cords of satin
Trillians of words have been attributed to love
All in vain, lost in the hope of what could be.

What’s love but a sweet sensation of lust
An excuse for the heat of passion that entrhills us
Beckoning us to partake in it’s scene
False profit proclaiming fullfillment and extacy.

What’s love but an empty justification for abuse
Hurt caused by physical and mental blows
Horror dressed in the cloths of protection
Rape justified for the betterment of self.

What’s love but the promise of a better tomorrow
Security of togetherness when time comes
That ultimate tranquility may be found
And sweet surrender is all there is.

What’s love but a house of cards
Volcanic ash after the erruption’s heat
Blown away in the winds of change
Swiped away by the currents of the sea.

Yet, I love you...