Love is a word, bigger than the world,
    A creation equal to its creator,
    And a possession greater than its possessor.

    Love is not just a feeling,
    It is not like cookies or chocolate.
    It is actually a real virtue,
    The most important one really,
    That must be learnt and consolidated.

    Love induces bursts of vivid imaginations,
    Pools of endless possibilities,
    And vehement assertion of adornment.
    Yet, love is painful, malignant and breaking.

    Love is random,
    It doesn’t border on distance or race,
    Neither does strangeness deters it.

    Love requires relinquishing control,
    Of our own life and self.
    It involves submitting ourself to destruction,
    After all, to love is to destroy.

    Love makes you willingly let go of yourself,
    And makes you give in to others totally,
    In utmost trust and faith.

    Loving is a voyage many embark on unprepared,
    Some come to regret venturing,
    Others jump and fly.

    Honestly, no one is ever prepared
    For this journey into the unknown,
    Most just make do and rely on experience.

    Most importantly,
    Some of us are not afraid,
    Of dying for what we believe in.
    Still, love conquers all!



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