Love

LOVE

Love , a private event,
like the private hour of dawn, and squandered away when the faintest ray of the knowledge dawns
the knowledge of which was always there
waiting
in a thin veil of anticipation,
between mystery and revelation,
and i was lured by the succession of the passing strangers in their weird garbs
of carnival display,
a pantomime of passion,
projections cast
on the walls of the cave.
Empathy is a vile thing when you let your precious self be sucked away
.
Love, like a timorous fawn,
bounded away.