Love In A Shackle

It started so gentle but cruel,
A painful stroke like my heart is pierced,
By a blunt sword pushed with a twist,
Don't be deceived; the nature of the weapon,
Nor by the fair maiden that wields it.

The pain was a sharp and crude the blow,
Sweet like the harmattan breeze,
Yet the chills is hotter than the scorching fury of mid March,
A Marathon to hell in ancient city of Yerwa,
Full of tempt and design like a candy on a shit.

I was charmed from the start and I want it to last,
The whole universe is inviting to me to a duel,
And I thought I can win even when defeat is what saw,
Brave is the fool in love when he fights the candid he sees,
In the eyes of the one who doesn't return his gaze,
For love they say starts with a convincing look.

A fool in love is a happy fool,
A fool I was but no more in love,
Torn and tangled by your thorn.

I crave your gaze even when you look down on me,
I wished you to give me a glims,
Of that look that turns black to grey,
Winter to summer in instant the reserve in a flash,
A chills to the bones that weakens my heart and soul.

I light the matches thinking I saw a spark,
Oh! how naive I am to believe you'd love someone like me,
But that's before I know my value is gold in me,
Still here I stand hunted by the memories of you and me,
Even when I know it's just as real as the roof over the sky.

But now I know the truth that hunts me day and night,
How impossible is for one hate the one loved.

© Muhammad Amiruddeen, 2018.