But Love Met With Pain

True love is the weapon that kills you first, 

Nurtures you to the heaven,

And shades your tears to shape your destiny,

All without saying a word. 

Unconditionally yours is a fine line

Between obsession and observation;

The only resume that fits is the desire

To conquer the squashed hopes. 

Never again shall someone be the same,

After being kindred by the flames

That flakes sunshine over blisters

Without a breeze, without a sound. 

Love is an intrigue that is intrinsic,

Leaving without a trace,

But keeps echoing in the heart

Until the soul returns to thy ends.

Beyond the fence

The wind blows notes of musicals

With petals joining this melody. 

The separation is a destruction 

That destiny desires in its own. 

Pain doesn't drown, it submerges 

In a freezing paragraph. 

If paradise can glide in thoughts,

Then where death stands. 

The cliffs we stand today

Are not cliffhangers 

But lights that strike 

An imbalance of consequences.