Image by StockSnap from Pixabay 

A noun or a verb,
Tell me exactly what is love?
You pressed your lips against mine,
But no I didn’t reach cloud nine.
Without my consent yet I kept silent;
I didn’t want your thoughts about us to go violent.
Fear or Romance,
Tell me, What accompanies love?
Just one more rumour,
And yet another misconception;
Destroys a complex set of emotions,
Just like a destructive vandal;
Or a burning down candle.
Insecurity or jealousy,
Tell me, What feeds love?
A ray of trust gone astray;
Like breaking the silence of grey.
The beliefs and feelings of affection,
The freedom of one, suffering violation.
Forgetting or forgiving,
Tell me, What is required by love?
Cheating or playing,
Exactly, what is worse?
Does love ,too, suffer from fatalty?
Or does it die in weeks because it never was alive?
How is it that my mother is never tired of loving
And your love for me always remains hospitalised?
How is it that love is so different for two persons,
Who share the same breath,
The same second,
The same number of heartbeats.
Millions sharing the same blood group.
Today, even when hearts can be transplanted,
When the organ of love can be same,
How does the emotions for one ever change?
What is love and why is it so partial?
Why is it so cruel and scornful?
Why did it let Augustus be Hazel’s when they barely had time?
Why did it snatch Lily away from Severus?
Why even after the promise of death,
It forbid the Hallow from uniting two lovers?
What is love and why does it run out so fast?
Is it only, Superficial or,
Does its inner beauty also exist?
Why is it better to just not love,
And why is unloving so hard?
Tell me, exactly, what is love?

.    .    .