Love is a Whim (Fan Fiction)

What is Love? I cannot define,
More so if I resort to books,
For its true meaning was lost in time
And marred with rust and crooked hooks.

People claim to be struck by Love,
And yet they don’t know what it means.
They think it’s a holy present from Above,
Yet everything is not what it seems.

People love and people lose
And wallow in self-pity thereon.
But I stand tall and spruce,
And think not of what is gone.

Love is a symbol of trust per se-
One that is broken just as easily
As blowing out a candle on a windy day
And turning your back on one’s misery.

The light of day sees many a lover
And many a loved one missed.
Many a person’s soul does hover
Between life and a sheer precipice.

Love hurts all that lives by it,
And teases those who seem grim,
And taunts people to the brink of fits,
For Love is, after all, just a whim.