Love Concoction

Parched I walked through the desert of life -

Scarce feelings, dried up emotions, distant from the masses,

Yet, never did I venture

To drink and satiate my thirst with the concoction of love.

For I had seen a lot craving for this drink, writhing, suffering

To get a sip of it, and even if they would as much swallow

A drop of it, they would only long for it, and no other.

I have seen them fighting for it, a bitter fight,

Kicking and punching and clawing and shedding blood,

Just for an additional drink or two -

Have we always been this thirstful or has this potion of love

Messed with our senses; coerced us into thinking

There's no other drink as satiating as love, as comforting as love.

Perhaps, yet again, I might say,

There's no venom in the drink itself, but

In the hands of those who bear the drink,

And wail and grieve and brawl for a single drop.

How ironic is it in fact, the gist of the emotion

They lock horns for, in fact does aim to dissuade them

Away from bitterness, but then, I suppose

This has been the matter with us humans,

Like Midas touched and made Gold, we simply touch,

And make conflicts, endless conflicts and an exodus of them.

And which is why, no matter how scorching the heat of life is,

No matter how athirst I am, I would never venture

Even in the direction they offer the love concoction, for,

As unfeeling I might be, I would not ever wish to be a victim

Of the mirage of a emotion.