The word of love lingers in the air,
For no one knows the truth,
For love is not a word or dare,
It is defined by me and you.

The whisper of the wind to the moon,
The trinkle of soft rain to the ground,
Follows the unexplained point,
That love in someways is meant to be found.

The way one's tears drip down their reddening sinking cheeks,
Breaks a small heart into two,
And shows my broken mind somehow,
Love seems to be the only lie that is true.

Love cannot be defined in one word or three,
For no one knows how much power it contains,
Love can bring you such delight,
But send someone into depths of pain.

Love is something that cannot be controlled,
The simpleness of the word can give one so much doubt,
But not interferring will teach one,
Love seems to always work its way out.

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