PIECE OF CRAP

Loving and being loved is lyk having the gift of flight,..
Or the cursed clumsiness of willingly stumbling and falling from a treacherous cliff...

Unearthly exuberance of weightlesness.
Love is my wing,and the clouds that dance beneath my feet lifts me afloat.
Beyond the tides of endless despair and melancholy,their is love that uplifts,
love that puts you in its pedestal of rancour and bliss,..

Then the law of gravity intercedes...
And the feathery feeling of bouyancy leads to a gut renching freefall..
A long and savage drop to an unfathomable void



...And so the myth begins..


They say that when you love you fall...Thus the cliche "fallen in love with you"..And for lots of times some of us have fallen and stumbled..
The scars left behind are superficial,
the wounds engraved too deep.
Love can be the torrential shower that kisses the leaves,and awakens the buds.
It spawns rebirth,.

And then it broods,
the clear spectre darkens and a stab of lightning pierces the humble land and deafening roars of thunder impregnates it with savage glee...

Love is the thieft in the night,
the robber in broad daylight.
You know what it steals,
you like what it takes.
The only anger that we harbor in our soul is the regret that it did not stay.
You fed it with your hapiness,
you pampered it with joy...
In the end it ran aloof with the thing you dare not live apart...
your stubborn, gullible heart...