I do not know, what is the cause. <br /> <br />Of love. <br />Is it the sight that makes love, <br />Or the love that creates a sight, <br />Not to see, <br />But to behold. <br />To be in the eternity of the clasp, <br />That of an eagle, <br />With its talons, <br />Tearing into your flesh, <br />Yet you be and you hold on, <br />Waking up in the middle of your night, <br />Dreaming, <br />That the eagle dropped you, <br />It's nails were not as sharp. <br />Sharper than your love. <br /> <br />Hardik Mahesh Vaidya<br /><br />Hardik Vaidya<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-do-not-know-what-is-the-cause/
