His love for me was an obscure secret, a mystery that dwelt deep within, undefined and misunderstood.
It resembled a dream that clashes with reality— a dream that blooms through a wandering forest, grows into a tree, changes its leaves, and eventually withers away.
His hope for me was rooted in a false idea of love.
The love that lacked water, air, and the sincere honesty found deep within a garden.
Occasionally, amidst my thoughts and fantasies, standing between belief and dream, I realise another truth—that I did not truly believe in his love.
Shahla Latifi
August 2025
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Author:
Shahla Latifi (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: August 7th, 2025 21:45
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 15
- Users favorite of this poem: Priya Tomar, Damaso
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Comments2
Feigned love is sometimes used as an excuse for the enactment of passion. Nicely written
Thank you for your thoughtful note and for reading this poem.
You are most welcome
A beautiful write of pretend love that lacked the real substance, nicely expressed and written
Thank you very much for your kind thoughts and compliment.
You are very welcome
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