Lovesick and tender, his heart rolls yet again,
on the flowerbed watered by a petite maiden,
it jumped out bleeding all over, loudly wailing
wounded by the sharp thorns galore, kept hidden,
"Ä rose is a rose is a rose" aloud, he repeatedly chants,
to his swollen heart, he reassuringly quotes,wriggling in pain.
The bleeding would stop soon, a sweet pain would take over,
if only one is a lover,one feels that way, be aware,
don't get bitter,not just for now, a time might later come,
love , be loved, bear the scars of the heroic war wounds on hearts.
to go back in time and recall how one fought one's wars,
to win the heart of the lady loved, then if it fails,smile!
walk back in time,to visit that historic spot, in the story
of one's life,where one finally fell smiling,unflinching
before the dagger eyes of the maiden, without mercy.
Love is often a war unforeseen , heart hunting heart
a walk along the zone corpse strewn, would make one realize
how heartless it all could turn!