Love As a Hydra
When did our love turn into a hydra?
With many faces peering out,
I don’t believe that’s what love is about.
Holding onto a tumultuous past,
Is easier than venturing into an unknown future,
Realizing present can never last.
Tenacity against adversity,
Is the inner strength,
That guides one through antiquity.
When unrequited love is the norm,
With not even a metaphoric amore to adorn,
My sadness echoes as loud as a runaway train,
I wonder if I’ll ever love again.
What is love anyway?
Is there anyone who really knows?
Because it starts from nothing,
And morphs as it grows.
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