Of Love & Other Demons

I think I have been in love but once,

And since then though I liked a few folk well,
It’s never been quite the same.

But the word today is so oft overused,
It’s worth grind to dust and bone
Love must be greater than mere touch of lust,

Greater than gifts and mere needs of flesh
For wars were waged and world’s rose and fell for love

For men battled death, and women crossed the realms of unforgiving Hell for love
In books and plays and poems and words can one feel the call of love, through time, beyond death

In tattered letters of loved ones surviving years and years can be felt the smooth caress of love
It’s what makes us more than flesh, blood, bone and ghost

It’s the eternal story that keeps us alive across dead civilizations and dying centuries
Mountains have crumbled and seas have stormed,

Lightning has fallen and long fires have burnt, leaving bodies wrecked and souls shattered,
For love.

I have but felt its soft touch once,
And perhaps I yet do not know what I love you means,

Maybe all it means is do not leave me here, all alone, shivering under freezing winds,
Do not leave me without the warmth of your presence, comforting like crackling hearthfire,

Stay by my side.
I beseech you, stay.

– Pritesh Patil ©

(Inspired by Neil Gaiman’s Dark Sonnet)

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