Wise sages and poets of old Endeavoured to answer a question Mystic and enigmatic What is love? They asked and told They scrawled and brawled is it stoic or erratic?
Some said it's virtue and others: a vice Some told it's a selfless act and others: it's a selfish pact Some pointed it's eternal Others: it's an impulse Some argued it's a deity others: it's the satan
Thinkers answered it with a riddle, Pondering over which I twiddle. 'Iron is a piece of refined earth Sword, shield, pen are given birth.'
I, a meager ant with no girth How can I answer why I love? I've just a word for what it's worth. Intent is not to shove.
The poem is trying to say love is like a piece iron what it is made into depends on the intention of the maker. Love is a virtue and a vice. Its given a shade by the intention of the person who loves.