Love is a trick,
something we have to restore hope,
a sham.

Love is but a lion’s den,
waiting for the pounce.

Love is a time bomb,
waiting for the explosion.

Love is Technicolor,
with the black just around the corner.

Love is a joke of nature,
waiting for us to believe,
to give into the weakness provided.

Make no mistake,
they show no mercy.
Only laugh when we are down,
even cry when we get back up.

Love is meant to destroy,
all human rights,
words,
inner workings.

But love is here,
humans have it,
I have it,
the disease,
Love…