The misconceptions of love
Are far not the truth
One can expect a lie
The rising drill of emotions,
Tells a silent revelation
Of a pregnant disillusioned mirror
And as they love
Its complexity imposes dynamics
True colours avail a truthful lie
It shines a sparkle of glasses
Broken, the glides get darker
And a hand gets full of blood
The hearts bleeds
It bleeds and never stops,
And stays confined to muddy blood
The misconceptions of love
Are far yet to be true
They happen to happen again
Moments pass in days
A lame duck decade
That could have turned arcade
Those tears ease like winter night
And flow likewise in times of age
And success is deferred
All was just a blind fairytale
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem