I've seen the tirade of lovers.
A feast of hushed inferno subtly glowing.
Like the glassy stare of love birds.
Eternally absorbed in ecstatic memories.
I've seen the tears shed for love.
Springing from the abyss of aloneness.
A heart yearning for magical warmth.
Not cured by hearth or furnace.
The memory of love bred insanity.
Giggles and laughter, so mysterious.
Only the lover see the crude jokes.
And the messenger is grave yearnings.
Love doesn't hide behind any facade.
Boldly does it grip the hearts.
Locking the birds in a twisted fate.
Only fools, forever yearn for it.