Love

Love, thou art nonpareil as thou always art,
Enthralling, enchanting, loving and
compassionate;
Thou art born of perdurable moon;
thy body laves in the rays of moon.
And, after laving in the rays of moon,
It fades out its filth of love, its perpetuities
last after that as love is.
Is it not that thou art of feature many,
Thy love as impeccable as anyone is,
Is less of what more mistakes are concerned,
For it is the creation of what’s called sublime birth.

Copyright: Welkin Siskin