Love Doth Reality

Love, what is love.

Amazing as it be made,

Doth it grand like the dove,

Or be it at lower grade.

Violent the words if lovers are,

And in gladiator's might they clash.

Passionate as boy with toy car,

In one swoop it is a mash.

Such as an earthquake in might,

We see lips gently part.

Never to damage to bite,

Just a kiss depicted in finest art.

Reality points I, a beggar humbled.

Pockets void and stricken pitch with rubble.