Spring evenings with pink fluffy clouds in the ever blue horizon perfumed with the sweetness of spring exuded by the delicacy of exotic flowers, this is the likeness of what Love should be. Effervescent with warmth with its glory at peak in physicality.

This is what Love is imagined to be.

A Love doomed to fail is one where the beloved is convinced their existence is an immense misunderstanding. And no greater dilemma is there than the reality of it all marred by ego.