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Created on: May 13, 2009
This Thing
What is this thing, this elusive flame
That makes people weep and forget their own name
That brings us together, and rips us apart
That swells and batters the fragile heart
It makes us happy, you sing to yourself
Our books sit unattended on their self
Nothing else matters but that light in our eye
Lit by the one who makes us feel we can fly
Its causes war, turmoil and grief,
Yet at the same time, it gives us relief
For in the arms of our lover, the cares melt away
Showing us comfort in your darkest moment of day
It makes us fools, fine poets and song writers
And dare someone take it, it makes us all fighters
We all seek to have it, we all long for its kiss
And if ever it leaves us, its touch will we miss
Oh, what causes this thing that controls how we live
That makes it so easy to another forgive
Was it cupid's arrow, or just meant to be
That I have found you, and you have found me?
I must know the answer of this bliss strong and sure
What is this thing that is so untainted and pure
That gives and keeps giving and sometimes abused
That is freely given, and sometimes used?
It must be love, yes that is the key
It draws us all in, both you and me!
It creates our fate, and makes our choices
It merges with us 'til it becomes our voices.
Oh that voice is sweet, like honeyed wine
That one that says that you are mine
Surely the darker side of this is not real
This emotion has finally caused me to feel
I beg love stay inside of my soul til my death
May it still with me til I draw my last breath
For love is beautiful, sacrificial and free
Without this thing could love, I could not be.
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