If I could give love a scent

A mourn arouses its plea as the escapism of amor in stillness breathes,

A dream that precedes, a trance that enthralls in its mirth does not cease to deceive.

The beauty of existence rides on the rose-tinted glasses that in lies swore.

The love that sang in me, alas sings in me no more.

------

Hope is a distant dream that fleets in the stellar of thin air,

Jubilant sparks of endearment that bred once, announce their demise in acrostic flair.

Across the sands of Dee, she sought redemption from the torment that buried her will

The city of love that symbolized eternal belonging massacred her trust over the window sill

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If I could give love a scent,

It would belie the countenance of a lie that masks its betrayal, under the disguise of sweet fallacies,

Cupid lays its hands on its prey in the silence of deception that one falters to see.

Oh, the ones to blame are the blasphemous sights of a lover's glance,

Where sanity meets its end and the insanity of adore starts to dance.

==

The amorous stance of life breathes in its stillness that forges to be

If I could color the world with the hue of love, If I could give love a scent of me,

Come with me, escape from the worldly chaos if you yearn to be free,

Find the redemption you so desperately seek in the depths of my poetry

-Hridya Sharma