Some say love, it is a river
deep powerful passionate
that drowns the tender reed.
that
destroys it that
trusts it
Some say love, it is a razor
flashy adventuresome daring
that leaves your soul to bleed.
it
cuts it
hurts it
breaks
Some say love, it is a hunger,
throbbing pulsing hollow
an endless aching need
needs
nourishment finds
nothing
Some say love, it is a flower...
and you, its only seed...
but it is not.
a flower is
beautiful
fragile earthly
the
reddest rose is still a
rose
a rose by any other name would smell as sweet
a thing of
earth, of
life,
of
finite.
the reddest
rose the whitest
snow
all
fade all
die.
love is of a different stuff,
immortal undying unbreakable
stronger than words
stronger than life.
for life
ends...
love does not.
lies the seed that with the sun's love
in spring
becomes
the
Rose