POEM

Love is dead from my early history.
It was fake for me.

It was only dream to me.
It was hollow to me.

It was unknown to me.
It was sick from very beginning.

It was died eknowled.
It was vain and hollow to me.

Tears are rolling here and there.
It was useless to and fro.

It was love of nonsense.
It was like flooding with river.

It was fearful and tearful to me.
It was unknown to me.

It has been finished with untimely death.
It is absurd in earth.

It is dead in life.
It is forgotten by me.

It is rotten .
It is fake and dead.