Grand Son Of Love Poem by Abdul Wahab
Grand Son Of Love
I am a non-fatal dangerous disease
I do not inflict people but they pick me up
From the neighbour's tip of rise
Out of hate, the daughter of love,
And the son of her, I am born
They kindle the fire and I burn
I eat up their soul’s flesh and they ache
Yet they do all out of love and do without knowledge
To have what others have but they do not
In disguise I am ‘admiration’ though they know not
So one needs much wisdom to unlace the knot
By which I now bind them with me too tight.
i am giving you hints...hate is another form of love, hate is the daughter of love as she is coming from Love, when hate is too much then jealousy is formed thus takeing birth the grandson of Love...jealousy.....got it?
love and hate, the complexity of life.... 'tis a wonderful poem.........
love and hate are powerful emotions. love and jealousy can turn to hate. deep thoughts
A complex and interesting write and agree all emotions are connected and each has a strength as powerful as the other if left unchecked.
Jealousy the dagger of love well thought out to give birth to hate i e grandson, the recipe for many a slaying...regards
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 1:45:03 AM # 1.0.0.1119
thinkers say that hate is another form of love... and i agree with them....there are many writings on this, and too much hate produces 'jealousy '' and the poem is all about it... wahab