Ruminating

Love has a special effect as hatred. It flows and goes to never stop You know or do not little matters. When sorrow picks up every bliss, When life hangs from a dangerous cliff, To stay or not for the torments Of personal grief, An important question arises. Then also the past it does miss Making a river of melting grief. Which sea of lament it wants to meet, Even mind doesn't know. Ruminating the past sorrow, The loss of blood, it cries In a moment of humble sorriness. Grief pays for grief, The Bliss stoops in vain.