what is love?

 it is the ripe fruit that feeds out souls more deeply than the flesh could ever understand

it is the pain of the void, the emptiness of living without

It is the space we try to fill or distract from in a myriad of ways, but never succeed..

it is the very juice of life itself, the absence of which leaves everything pale, withered, meaningless

it is a nearly psychedelic thing, making every infinitesimal detail of life more vibrant and alive, engaging, real

and it is the dungeon master, the profound torture of knowing what can be and has been, but was perhaps forsaken and may never be again

it is the ideal that the romantics aspire to know

but it is also like a feral cat, a pure force of nature, wild and free

it is all we want but seldom deserve

it is a blessing and a gift that we only appreciate on its arrival and departure, never its sustained presence

it is the reason good men may throw their lives on the balance and say if someone most lose, here I am, Let it be me

it is that ethereal thing that cannot be defined or captured, but we will always try

it the wound of its departure

it is eternal in its own way, unless we harden our hearts to it, and woe to he who does

it is the very ambrosia of the Gods, and their essence

and after all this, it is still undefined.

it always will be

it is all we ever seek and can never truly possess.

it is a profoundly beautiful thing that inspires such creations, clumsy, awkward, and ugly in comparison to a simple sunrise