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This couldn't be love,
a pure feeling that everyone wanted to have.
This isn't affection of a lover,
but a shackle of an agonizer.
Those intense eyes and stares,
followed each movement with glares.
Those protective gestures,
were not of a gentlemanly manners.
That feeling is empty,
like a void paper treaty.
It'll only look one sidedly,
a feeling that will end in tragedy.
The tales and folklore knew it all,
it wasn't love but a pitfall.
A dark desire to imprison,
to own someone's beacon.
It wasn't romance
that exude love in each glance.
It wasn't tender admiration
with eyes oozing with affection.
It was an incurable disease
in which unhealthy possessiveness was dense.
It was a murky station,
a desire to cage someone into the labyrinth of depression.
It was suffocating.
It was terrifying.
It was a prison.
It was an obsession.