Love: Impossible Poem by Madhuri Sawant

Love can’t be changed to hatred.
Love could only give a cue about anger.
Yet anger has its own love.
Love has its own magic in healing the wound of hatred.
Love is a pillow for troubled, slept in thorns of hatred.
Love knows how to forgive mistake.
Lover’s quarrel has its own comfort.
Where other’s win is reward for own defeat.
Love is an orchestra where pride is not a complement of jealousy.
Love is a wealth where lust and satisfaction are no different.
Love is a home where walls are not for protection.
Love is an emotion where heart is not secret place for feeling, but feeling protects heart.
Love is eternal, not protected by fence.
Sometimes I wonder whether such love exists.
Why then world is not heaven, then there would be no need for dying.
World would be immortal I guess.