Little devil called love

Mumma told me the devil had faces,

That the devil was not just one person.

She told me I’d see him in people I love,

She told me it wouldn’t be a pretty sight.

She told me he makes you want them first,

Then breaks you down to want the worst,

I think I’ve met the devil a few times now,

Smiling at me, hunting me down.

It seems to me like he’s still not done,

knocking on my door, calling me out.

Silly is my mumma who told me all,

Just forgot to mention that his name is love.

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2 Comments Add yours

  1. Abdul Raqeeb says:

    Faces only have its traces
    Persons are just its assertions

    It feeds on our hate
    Mocking our fate

    suffering builds its appitite
    Our misery is its delight

    There is nothing pretty about it
    Or anything witty about it

    A devil we all have to face
    But we don’t have to embrace

    Let it knock
    Let it stalk

    Or it will stick like a parasite
    Away from our sight

    Feeding from with in
    Shedding its skin

    It leaves a mark
    Mark that is dark

    You never felt the skin
    You only touched a glove

    Devil knows no love
    Devil knows no love

    Like

    1. Maham Amjad says:

      @Adbulraqeeb That’s pretty impressive.

      Like

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