To love is to be afloat with the scattered clouds and untold sea
To be caught staring blankly at an object we don't really see.
To love is to be so selfless yet demanding so selfishly,
To be careless, be one and lost with the cold wind of January.
To love is to be decisive, wanting clearly only one thing
To be emboldened by strange feelings, becoming brave yet yielding.
To love is to be scared, crippled by the sheer fear of not knowing,
To be willing to be as honest, vulnerable yet shielding.
To love is to flow, drown in multitude of words infinitely.
No matter the struggle, the cruel circumstance, one should love freely.
Never mind the complexity, how long or short, few or many,
No matter the reasons, without questions, no matter how silly.