by Madison Starr

Created on: November 08, 2009

It's a gift and a curse

With sweet times and hardships,

Coursing through you with blinding madness.

It touches your heart like a light caress

And cuts like a knife,

Leaving in its wake much distress.

It floods you with passion,

With a lover's embrace.

It leaves you breathless,

When your soul it does grace.

It breaks and it bonds, it triumphs and fails,

Its value weighed on a much larger scale.

It opens your heart and puts trouble at ease,

But please, be aware, it can also tease.

Whether flooding with a rush or using slow pace,

It forces the heart to look upon its face.

And when you surrender to its beckoning call,

How blindly you relish the heavenly fall.

What is it that fills us with such sweet desire?

Consuming our being in passionate fire.

What is it that carries you on the wings of a dove?

I'll tell you, my dear,

It's the thing we call love.

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