You talk of things you have never known. Things you’ve given thought over fleeying seconds. You talk of things so big to understand as if you saw them through spectacles of brilliancy, of clarity. You give in to your arrogance and you refuse to admit the mistakes of your judgment.
Love is a thing to nig to grasp, too big to ever fully understand. It is everywhere yet it is nowhere, it lasts forever, it easily is gone. Love is nothing but it is everything.
To love is to live and it is to die. There is pollution in it, there’s redemption.
Love is fire, beautiful, burning, consuming.
It kills with no humanity, it allows us to live in hope. It hurts us for the happiness of our loved ones, sometimes it is not enough.
And although it looks like I know it, i do not. It is inconstant like the moon, it makes my tides rise. I know it not and I’m not nearly arrogant enough to believe I do.