Is this poetry, or do some know nothing at all about this?

[...hp...]

.
.

I sought answers
where mystery left me
confounded, I cared to know
how could one be so sad?

in what cavernous mind,
had hate sweltered
molding into acerbic dust?

lost for the truth, I bowed
accepting what I may never know
awful origins that mislead one so
concluding, it can only be...


one without Love
cannot Love
.
.