The heart wants what it wants—
Doesn't matter, doesn't care.
Won't play it cool; won't learn to share.
For all's fair in love and war,
But don't you dare take it far.
Stay steady and firm, like the Northern Star.
An urge, a desire to be fictionalised in ink,
Deeply rooted, like a forgotten drink—
Written in flames, too hard to blink.
Real or not, it burns like fire—
Delicate and tender, like forbidden desire,
Shrouded in mist, dressed in satire.