Some say love‘s a feeling, I say that’s an empty word
Some say it’s a state of mind, conditional and manufactured
Is it a thing we fall into like some cosmic accident?
A purposeless connection destined only to relent?
I’ll politely pass if that’s truly love’s design
But I believe that soul exists who mutually declines
This world’s inadequate counterfeit version of the word
So I’m still searching for the music where the Melody is heard
Above the racket and confusion of chaos and despair
Beyond the substanceless attraction and shallow words that two could share
Even as aesthetics bow to entropy and time
The kind of Love I speak of will be the ever-growing, giving kind
Because Love has never been a fleeting feeling or a thing
Love is a choice, Love has a name: 𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨