Morality of Love

Am I writing rubbish?
I write only of love and life,
Around me, I see a thousand pale faces,
And they break their brain to save a small world.

I feel like a child,
Seated in an adult classroom.
They speak of algebra and physics,
I stare off afar, like a teen in love.

I can hear the bells off a church steeple,
And a music from its sacred choir;
A boring sermon chewing every scripture,
I know, I am a fugitive in a foreign land!

Can you tell me,
If I am doing right?
I only know that my love is mad,
Like a scorching sun or a roaring rain.
Without any qualm of,
Subjugation or denial,
I persist beyond all peril,
Of a moral decadence,
As you are my only moral,
And your love is morality to live.