Love the game we play
Love, the game we play
Inadvertently means so much in a variety of ways.
The nocturnal flights of fancy,
Driven by pulsating lust and tempestuous lips,
A warm empathetic romance, sealed with thoughtfulness and a tender kiss.
Love is the game we play,
Love is the integral force within our passing days.
Whether it fall on words of affection,
Or be locked in the feverish embrace of passion.
Love is beyond the mere whispers of our dreams
It creeps deep within these hardened walls like, the bursting of banks of a river or a stream.
There are no rules to follow,
It is not a script you can rehearse,
You give it your heart, your very essence, chapter and verse.
Love is the game we play,
We see it reflected in our deepest fantasies,
Embroidered into the depths of our memories.
It's hard to escape and in all fairness the body like the heart can be feeble in its defences,
Should we dare fight the urge, or go a life of pretending.
It is a game, a drug an infliction.
Yes its clear it’s a pending addiction.
© 2011 Alana Bembridge