The Riddle of Love
Love is peace Peace is life Life has to end But... Love has no end Like always, he was humming the songs of love while cleaning the road, spinning his broom with each new verse, trying to play at tunes. As the dawn cleaned the darkness of night, he used to purify the soul of his thoughts but everyday he got entangled in another web by the charm of her love. She used to answer his riddles of love and he waited for her everyday, sometimes intentionally and sometimes without any reason. The petals are to be loved with the pain of thorns The love is to die, if the pain is warm. While undulating her charm, Mary smiled and moved forward while whispering some words. Jim did the futile effort to listen but failed like always. On a routine basis, with the new sunshine another riddle was there to be uttered and then to be solved. Jim was playing with the thoughts cleaning the roads and listening to unsaid. Love comes to me with the steam...