Yes, what tales of non romance,
In some stranger's dance,
Some women get love's short  shrift,
Not so lucky, get my drift,
It's called love and catastrophes,
Spare me the drama mamas, please!
(And they're supposed to be men, prithee!!)

You are the brainteaser for what all the intellectuals have become somnambulist
Still you are inconclusive;
All the linguists have become asinine
Since the language of your eyes are indecipherable
Every single iota of your heart is a nuclear
And all men are in love with nuclear
When they burst, burst in silent
You are the only cloud
that brings rain in the heart
For you all sins seem Romantic
And all catastrophes are Dramatic
All lovers watch, and remain as a sparrow alone upon the house top.