A toast to love

War is the vestiges of the proven-unproven love
Smoke is what is left of the conflagrations
A woman becomes one on the birth of her child
So much pain endured for further exaggerations

One gives a fragile piece to be kept safely
Only gives, hoping to get the love never promised
The piece that broke but was never returned
Too unflattering to be serviced

But sir, we hear of tales so spellbinding
Taketh and none giveth is unheard of!
What world are you living in, my child,
Isn’t it almost like a real cynic to scoff?

I will tell you exactly how it is I see.
Love is like watering a fruitless tree
Love is the arrow that left a second too soon
When you forgot to compare her face to the moon’s
Love is the ugly history that repeats itself
Love is a cheat that passes the test
Love is the question whose answer eludes me
Love is a part of me that shall never be