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.