Epic of Love

I’m a bride to your fancy desires

Dressed plain, you adore me

It’s peculiar to feel this way, to be smiled at and caressed

I suppose I’ve always sought out a different kind of love

A fast blaze of light

One which quickly died

One which was untrue

I was a coward for those trials, no wonder I failed..

I skipped along, sparsely looking upon my life

Oh sure i did, once or twice only to naively ignore the half hearted people i filled myself with

What a pattern of disgrace.

I drew them all as picture perfect people in my mind

And there those characters stayed, never once meandering out into reality

Never once showing their faces to anyone but me.

Is it true that I see people so beautifully yet I’m still so cynical

That I could know someone's evil and see past it to find comfort in a liar's arms.

For what?

My blatant satisfaction.

Feelings of extraordinaire

It is a grand feeling to hold knowledge, but to just hold it and never let it go is selfish.

Naive.

I fancy that word then, i settle into it and pretend not to notice the obtrusive wrongs.

To share my knowledge though, to let someone else participate would enlighten the two of us.

That's what you’ve taught me.

That’s what we do with one another.

Is that called real love then?

I’m so accustomed to the passing thought, never more, never less.

Heartbroken is an understatement.

I can’t say that I’m overwhelmed, that’s overused.

I do create this myself, so running has never been an option.

What has always been the appeal then?

I find a fragrance so overwhelming, so melancholy to the idea of me.

Yet I find a way to make myself believe it adores me.

But fragrances blow away and disappear with time.

Nothing smells good forever.

To find something permanent, something immaculate.

I can’t say I ever did, that is, until you.

You’re more than a smell, you're a feeling.

I couldn't describe it.

I lose words.

I know a lot of words but I lose them all when I look at you.

You fit a mold i only imagined, and even my imagination didn’t come close

You suffice a role that was once shattered by hatred and tainted temptation.

Doors that were left open within me, that contained creeping monsters

Monsters that dispelled lies

Monsters that I obeyed.

Monsters that told me what love was.

And I listened.

Naively.

I knew they were wrong, but I listened.

I’ve grown to learn love cannot be explained.

It’s not truly tangible

Although it could be.

It's a very whimsical thing, ever changing.

But believe me not, because it is also constant and firm.

It’s perceptive and deeply blinded.

It’s joyous and miserable.

I could list the features of love for days and never come to a solid conclusion.

It’s everything you make of it.

I once came upon a series of words, composed in quite an efficient way to help me understand why I seemed to be so halted when it came to love.

I’ll summarize:

You may be a full package, have every great quality that could possibly be seen,

But if you are placed upon the wrong door step,

Given to someone who never requested you,

Then you will inevitably be mistreated and discarded because they have no use for you.

But to fall into the hands of the person who wanted you all along is where the happiness lies.

To them you are treasured and loved.

They want you.

I’ve taken a long time to unravel such a simple truth.

I’ve gone down the wrong path far too many times.

Subsequently, tangling myself further into a web of lies.

It was always possible to find love

I hadn't been looking in the right places.

And I didn't find you, you found me.

In the tumult and massacre of people who shrouded me.

To be left alone caused me nothing but harm

The mind overwhelms

The mind becomes uncontained

But those vibrant disillusions because blurry in your presence

You fixed a broken world

You fit my puzzle piece into its place

I wish for nothing more then.

But i can’t stop my wonder

I crave answers, it might be my undoing.

So I ask and ponder on the meaning of love.

Though it cannot be contained

And it cannot be defined

I still vie over it.

I find truth to be a sacred thing and I search far and wide

At the expense of my sanity, I'd recognize.

So love is too much of everything to be anything.

And it would be a fools game to brood over it.

Love is to the beholder

Love is questionable to the man staring into the window

But to the couple inside, it’s their world

Now we’re that couple

I was fated before, destined to die alone

But with you..

You adore me.

You look into my eyes and i cry

I see your love

More than anything, I feel it

When you enter the room, my heartbeat quickens

I smile when you smile

I feel sorrowful when you’re down

And I yearn for your presence.

I miss your touch from just last night, though we sit side by side today.

It all seemed so unsure, but you’re certain

You love me and I love you

Our paths are doing more than crossing, but intertwining.

The view of despair is gone.

But a reflection in the past.

I don’t turn around either.

I see only you

In perfection

In sweet circumstance.

Alone in any crowd.

Peace at last.

Quiet now, as I lay my head on your chest.

Passionate, as I kiss your soft lips.

Lively at your explicit touch

And as my eyes grow heavy, you slide your steadied hand along my soft silhouette

And I relax in the warmth that you share.

Forgotten are my mistakes.

Remembered are my moments with you

If love is all and love is nothing

Then we are the beacons for love, and without us, love wouldn’t be received.

If love is only taken then love cannot exist.

So I will define love as the opposite.

Love is given and so love exists for that purpose, without the givers love is fictional.

And if the givers have no love to give, their existence is futile

Love is the reason we live and it shall be the reason we finally let go and die.