LOVE DOES NOT BARK

It roars like the lion an upsurge feeling,

With what could it be measured?

It stings by the spittle of its tongue,

Yet nothing out there to measure a fang,

Is it Satanic in nature or what call love?

More bitterness awaiting the hearts of many,

With demonic claws of loneliness,

That sets in when scandal is found,

Love to call from afar nothing the echoes be,

Let love posses a mind to detect where fault lies,

The vultures are guilty even when they are alive,

Yet none are drown down the drain of time,

When only love the meaning there to give,

That coils their nostrils to an uninvited banquet.

Why then should it be so wicked in attitude,

I mean this thing call love so wicked indeed,

It has hurt so many and others dead agone,

It is men rather not this thing call love,

The blame is on men but not this thing call love,

A gentle feeling yet misrepresented by greed,

The odious ado created by men should bear the cause,

Love is so gentle and harmless like the doves,

Call it something else you would not love