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The Art of Love

Published 1 year, 8 months ago
Description

What hasn’t written about love?
A heart that writes with its blood!

Where the heart, the only organ
That feels and describes!

Is because, needs no pen, pencil nor paper
It feels love and is, with it; the grabs blood

It is with, blood that learns to describe?
It precisely, leaves prints in the skies …

It wants all to read it …
However, only the very few will

That’s because, the very few …
Has earned, the interest to read its contents

They feel, not important to read lines
Perhaps of a masterpiece, written …

By someone, you thought was never fit
To master and hold a pen …

That by itself writes to describe with …
The ink of a squid that is black …

However, it can only be her!
That can turn this black ink to red

To match that, of her art heart …
As she writes with it, as the abundance oceans

Works with her … her mind wide
All of the creatures of the sea wakes up

They all command from her endless love
It’s the respect, they give her …

All the rights, to get a poet
Of her to describe …

I am wondering why?
It’s because, it’s they her love that wakes up

The Sun once again comes for her …
She is anonymous, similar smile to the sun

The cold hearts, she warms
It’s the sun working with her

What does her heart look like?
If anyone can take a deep and/or ride
Is her heart …

It’s only a master of perfume …
Whom can smell love, only she has

Can she describe her heart of art?
Let test her, if she knows!

My heart was one for love and to love
It once was red … ran out of blood

It used all of it …
To give endless love

It grew back … for too much love, she had
In here is endless, fountain
where love grows back

No matter, how much
They tried to take, there’s always enough

No one can take away my love …
Am the owner of a gift from the above

No matter how rough …
My blows, none compared to His known love
And our love

Where to go to get more of it …
There in my heart of gazillions endless of it

Compared to others …
I can give and never run out of it

My heart is a microscopic seed
That I can turn to endless of it …

That’s because, I’ve always believed in love
That no one can take it, away from me!

It is a Divine gift …
Perhaps from the God’s

Is it from the Roman Goddess, Minerva

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