What does love feel like?
Asked the young aimed at the old,
Old slowly breaks to smile.

Why do you ask so?
Questioned the old teasing the naive novice,
Love could be many things.

Young visibly confused, starts thinking,
Did you ever feel it, when, how,
Do you know it is love?

Old, now amused, starts answering,
I guess you are of that age,
I shall entertain your questions.

It’s a flame once lit,
Inside your heart will burn for eternity,
Devouring your very own existence.

It’s a harsh torrential rain,
Which will take all your senses hostage,
Pouring emotions to your heart.

It’s upon you, young lover,
What do you make of the flame,
A torch or a wild fire.

It’s in your own hands,
How do you utilise the pouring water,
To preserve or let go.

Everyone is lucky to feel,
The very feeling of being in love,
Yet, it’s always something mystical.

As, there’s no one way,
To express how one feels and why,
Languages have tried and failed.