Love and the poet...

There ends all my words when I start to think

I know, I belong not jut to humans but a different ilk

Like the caste and religion, to the Gods, acts as a veil

My love and sorrows is to my heart and thus I fail

I know, there is a thin line between pride and vanity

Many a times I suffer in between the line in fraternity

In harmony, love played with my hormones

I lost my love and harmony like the light of no-moon

An angel walked in the garden of my heart

But I crushed the roses and threw the thorn at her feet

She bled walking all around my garden alone for my love

It is to her, all the space in my body and my mind I owe

In the trepidation that she might lose herself

I left and hesitated her but in the expedition I lost myself

She was the first to caress and care in all my life

Held my hand for confidence and gave her bosom in all my strife

Without my knowing she was there in all my words

Her countenance followed me in my nomad treads

There exists a simple word we use called Love

In which everything succumbs that come from up above.