Words of Deformed Love

Words fly me away to the unknown,
where the stars sing alone,
where planets dance in empty space,
chanting to the greatness of the universe.
Indeed, a much better world it is,
where innocence is wearing immaculate white,
unviolated by the dirt of humanity,
but kept in its childish form,
for which Wordsworth sang, super-heartedly.
Love had been a childish word,

innocently carved in the core of our existence,
meaningful only to the mindful, and the heartful alike…
but thou have been tarnished,
displaced of your immaculate form,
and deformed to the utmost of deformation.