This Thing Called Love Poem by Ankur Beohar

As I dive deep into this thing called love,
admiring the surprizing thing
walking besides a human who's so alive
and throwing away useless blings

I have handed over the reigns of my cart
allowing her to navigate me away from my past
and caressed the emotions of tumultuous state
whose every letter is written by the fate

with uncertainty forming the core of our lives
and her tantrums which make the day drive
the smile that is subject to no words at the end,
I live through, as if mutliple lifetimes I've spent.
In wondering what it is?

That made me as yet live,
without these thundering darkness of the loving clouds,
and the famed shine of the sun's shroud,
where were they? Where did their encored beauty lay
before I dived into this thing called love.