Let love sting like a hornet,
Let love pierce the skin
Like a needle that injects
Compassion and kindness into the veins.
Love is the battered soldier.
Fighting on a smoky charred battlefield,
Disemboweling prejudice and hostility that
Spout from the hellish realm of hatred.
Love is the spur
That pierce deeply on the sides.
The extreme pain that causes
someone to do something as a result.
Love is venomous
Like the scorpion’s strike.
It slowly spreads throughout the body,
Making it weak and showing on the outside.
Love freezes the soul.
It halts it in a case of ice.
It hails over it on a cold throne.
Making it submit to a sleet of uncertainty.
Love is like a rapid.
Its rough white waters wind down
a river of rationalization.
Of harsh rhyme and wrecked reason.
Love is death.
It sends one into a complex coma
While rots the body with morbid odor.
A corpse that retains its eternal happiness
With a passionate blood-curdling smile.