Love sees
Love is blind but very conditional,
When limits appear they remain subliminal,
We test the heart of our lover as if permissible,
Only to discover that love isn’t blissful,
Love is magic, a cute dove in a hat trick,
Spontaneously drafted at the same time sporadic,
We become confused by the magician with his illusive gadgets,
As the same to lovers with words emphatic,
Love is a memory to those who wait,
Wait too long and love turns to hate,
In other situations it turns to haste,
Hurray and fix things before your love is waste!
But wait, what is love?
Some say it’s sent from above,
To give us peace when times are tough,
Then where is love when I shed my blood?
It seems to hide when I scream and cry,
Maybe love isn’t strong enough to defeat my pride,
Or could love be keen as a thief in the night?
A sly perfectionist lurking in the shadows like a spy,
Waiting for the right moment to strike with no explanations,
Softening ones heart, redeeming its provocations,
Leading lovers to express feelings of exaggeration,
And soldiers to fight wars under false allegations,
For all this, then love must see,
For how could it function without a vision to lead,
To say it’s blind is to deprive its deed,
So the next time you feel loved, remember love sees!
