IF THIS IS NO LOVE!

Lying on the bed with all the crumbled sheet,

apparently, the act to my unscrupulous thoughts.

That feeling of being vulnerable, killing me inside,

even when, being aware go the aphorism!

‘Anything which lives, die!’

They say empty mind is home for devil,

so here is my devil, sitting inside my head in a coiled position,

with no sign of cringe!

Yes, as if my mind is occupied with all the cliché thoughts, I could ever imagine.

A tinch thought of being away from a person who means everything to you,

kills you inside and turns the night into a nightmare,

that, when you close your eyes, the thought grumbles you,

and, when you open it, the reality of aphorism hits hard.

Isn’t it magical, the thought of belongingness and feeling frantic of not seeing or hearing someone in life, further.

A thought of loosing someone forever,

makes those tears rolled down through the cheeks,

making an invisible caressed line and dwelling on to the pillow, which holds it back.

Just the mirage of someone took the mind off.

If this is no love, there’s nothing like love.

If this is no love, no love is love.

If this is no love, no love has ever loved.