By Roger W Takla

If of nothing else I know, of pain I do
Its craving for tears and its faithful crew:
Love is the first, the assassin of all hearts
Then comes deceit, the archer with sharpest of darts

Pain is no man; yet, great is its lust
When it harbors in a heart, it does so to last
It gleens life from tears and grows on blood
Pain is what love worships as a God

Friend, do not pray for love to come
Don?t be a fool like many, like some
Love is the servant of pain, of vile
Let love be away by a billion miles

Of pain I know, a master I am
But knowing it made my heart as lame
He who taught me is he whom I call my love
The purest, cutest, most ugly dove.

Submitted By saeed

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