I wrote this short piece of poetry while I was in a ponderous mood. There were moments that I could not contain myself from wallowing in sadness. There seemed to be a vacuum that only something or someone else could fill the emptiness, but sadly, I had not the faintest idea of who or what could be. I am in love with love, a love magnified by empty thoughts, empty heart, and empty dreams, a love nurtured with piercing thoughts. Could it be filial love for my parents whom I terribly missed? Could it be love for my better half who owns my heart? If so, why would it be devoid of happiness? Could it be an offshoot of some failures? Only time can tell what is causing me such discomfiture. Whatever it is, let my heart indulge the love, surmising it is where I would find the answer to some burning questions.
