Here it comes again.
The trap of love.
(Here it comes again,
I must exhaust myself
with love again).
The lighting of the almost
invisible thread inside
the candle.
(Can I believe it truly
exists this time?)
It has been burning
till its end, reaching the
bottom.
(Life has hurt me much,
I have little left of the
the fire within me).
It must now forcefully
cut off its pieces to
light itself up again.
(I have to be convinced
by someone, that love
exists; after so
much trial and error,
I no longer believe it
does).
It has been forced
out of its roots,
(I have been forced to
believe that love is a thing
of the past).
and must be lit by
another fire for it
to believe that it
(Can you do that? )
can light up our paths
again.
(Can you make me believe
that love exists again?)
YOU ARE READING
You Who Knows Least
PoetryA sequel to my book "You Who Knows Best". Read, and you will find much intellect. The thoughts I share here are of my inner sect.
