Many of us experience love in short measures
Making life perfect in small measures
Most flowers bloom and wilt soon,
Just as love vanishes like the unsteady moon
Or simply wilts, decays, meets death,
To be temporarily honoured with wreaths.
Encompassing a variety of emotional and mental states,
Love at one moment prospers, followed by hate
And ravaging jealousy which overpower,
Leading to satanic and animalistic behaviour.
Attraction and attachment vanish into thin air,
Love turns into a dream crusher or a snare.
All kindness and compassion go to the wind.
Romanticism, love and promises rewind,
Hate and abusive words dominate,
Promises of love discarded and left at the gate,
What dominates is devastating hate,
To the distress of the once-so-called soul mate.
The sentiment might appear again,
With nothing much to gain,
Making partners live in a fool’s paradise,
Lust, followed by intimacy, brings the honeymoon phase,
Gradually to be replaced by bewilderment as if in a maze,
Till the thunder terrifyingly again rumbles.
If love can be had in small measures
With all its pressures,
Why then, do we voluntarily and blindly,
So recklessly, so heedlessly,
Jump into the trap of vain declarations constantly?
Oh, the encroaching traps of love ephemerally!