i don't write to be rated

When what matters caters for the lifeless The lifeless engrave the sparkle of the mind The mind values the barren soils of the heart, Which might be a curse to the feelings inside They say love is blind but feeling can see See through the eyes of a wailing heart But a loving heart is cautious and fragile Agile as the mind could be to love Lust still lasts and blurs the love inside Painting a pale picture of perfection is pain love brings Rings of reverence and heart ripping rumples tore the heart apart Apart from this sore sickness called love I don’t love to be rejected nor do I love rejection Motions of the heart are emotions Moving my mind from zero to hero I don’t write to be rated If so curse my pen for my ink is a virgin Love is a mystery, figure this out….