No one may know what each moment holds
Nor comprehend a second's passing,
For lost in time's wake, my love I cannot find.
A love lost may only be found again in faith,
And love taken can only be stolen back with devotion.
So our souls desperately search for that which is missing
While being under the control of our hearts.
In this way our hearts deceive our minds, spreading the truth of emotion.
For we are blind to love as it happens,
We cannot so clearly see the ruins in front of us, nor the path behind us.
As loves story cannot be so easily told.

No words could describe the picture love paints,
No philosophy could represent the passion love creates,
Though I understand "A loving heart is the beginning of all knowledge."
For love opens the limited mind.
Leading us to the clear path of truth within our universe.
But is it really so simple,
That the answer to all questions is but a relic in our hearts?
But how can we fathom that which words will taint?
How can we see that which cannot be seen?
For "It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye."
As the heart sees pure emotion
But the mind is blind to love.
Could this be because the mind tries to reason through each thought,
While the heart allows for uncertainty?
It questions not what we see but instead open itself to that which is.

So what is the meaning of love?
How can we dissect it to see its hidden self?
Can we torture it to see what it may tell us?
For love conceals its secrets from us
Never speaking of what it knows.
We must understand that "Love can sometimes be magic. But magic can sometimes... just be an illusion."
Desperate for what's been veiled to be uncovered
We look for any artificial reality to be our truth,
Though we can only hope to gain knowledge of love through patience.
As "(Love) cannot be found by looking for it or by passionately wishing for it, it is a sort of divine accident."
Forcing a truth onto love will only further divert us from its reality.
So until we step back and watch love tells its own story
We will never know the truth of love.

So we must try to understand love's past
And we must live to see love's present
And only then can we hope to see love's future,
As "Even time itself changes, it's the heart that stays the same."
But only a fool could think he knows of love that lies ahead
For if we cannot grasp love's past,
It will only mystify our minds to think of love yet to come.
We may find that "The future live in a cloud, formidable from a distance."
As from afar the future is chilling
It leaves us fearful of the unknown,
Though when the truth of our universe is revealed it becomes disheartening.
So should we even wish to know of that we cannot see
For only a sorrow soul knows their fate.


We all strive to grasp the idea of love
Never fully seeing what is behind the drawn curtain
Only at peaking at what we wish we knew.
So we may learn that the heart plays tricks on the mind leaving us wishing for the truth,
Though truth discovered we fight fate wanting to make our own reality from life.
But fate does not succumb to wishful thinking
And rather tells the tale of an uncontrollable actuality.
For fools we are to want our stories told
And lovers we are to let our hearts control us.