Can love be something one fears of?
How can something as pure as love be so fearful?
Love is so beautiful yet so fierce,
When not handled well.
The One that carries it carelessly tends to injure themselves.
I fear of love, I do.
I fear of it greatly, for I do not know how to hold it.
Like a new born baby just hours out of its
Warm cosy nourished petit (atomphere).
I dare not let it come forth.
Love that is pure
But yet so dangerous.
It burns through your veins
As though you are being burnt alive from inside out.
The desire of being washed by love is solely made by the bravest of hearts.
I know of my value
I know of the value of love
I dare not be naive of its grandeur
The mighty double edged sword,
Known as love,
Has protected some but injured others.
As lust disguises itself as it’s fellow breadren.
Poor Cupid
Must be feeling foolish
For granting naive souls of their wishes.
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