Is Love anywhere? Lungs are to blast From the hoarse cry Of a man who seeks it as Must Twisted fates in books, movies, life Does the blessing really exist? They say it comes from above… Pure. Real like your fingerprint On the glass of red bitter wine. It requires infinite time To trust and not to be let down When the frost eats up your hands. In the ice of other passer-bys There is a reflection of pair of sad eyes. Happy Valentine’s Day Sorry Good true men in despair cry From unworthy shallow relationship strips How many until you find? And will you find? Scattered like rare beads With numerous slits - a way to stop to seek For another true soul like yours Where not ego but flowers grow. Overwhelming tiredness Will there be a tangible output to this?