Love?
2009, re-written for those
of us who are in love..
Most people try countless times to explain the word 'Love' to the one that they may share it with. I am no different and thus, consequently, during amorous moments, I can't help but question what I would say if I were ever called upon to justify my Love for you.
I know that it sounds fanatical, yet, if there is a heaven, where inevitably you are destined to reign, then I don't want to sound speechless in front of a jury of angels if God himself were to ask me to prove to his court that I Love my woman.
So before you are given those wings that you so rightly deserve, I would answer by saying; my woman means more to me than your heaven’s demise means to the devil.
Time is of the absolute essence around her presence, because every minute feels deceivingly like a second, and the more I wish time would delay its course, simply so that I have the whole of eternity to hold her close, the more my desire remains unfulfilled.
What's even more so frustrating, and never fails to astound me, is knowing that there is someone out there who can break my most resilient of moods through the use of meager words.
I would do whatever it takes to ensure her safety, even if it included putting my own at risk and I am confident of the fact that if we were to share time oceans apart, the thought of her alone would be heartening enough to strengthen during fragile moments.
It would be unmanly of me to stand here and claim that there aren't others out there who pray for her to come home to them, but I'm certain that they don't prey as much as I do, you yourself have bared witness to that.
I ask of you to tell me why you chose to bless, or plague (as the brokenhearted might argue), us with such a commanding emotion. An entire race, potentially, at its mercy.
I know that I am in Love, but I don't know what it is about her that has left me fallen so deep into it, especially when not so long ago I considered the emotion a nonentity. I can go so far as to say that I don't just Love my woman, no, what I feel is a successor to Love. What I feel is innovation for emotion. What I feel is original to me and only me.
What I feel is; her thoughts through my mind...
Her blood through my veins...
Her tears through my eyes...
Her pain through my scars...
What I feel is...
At which point I'm sure God would interject and ask; Love?
Most people try countless times to explain the word 'Love' to the one that they may share it with. I am no different and thus, consequently, during amorous moments, I can't help but question what I would say if I were ever called upon to justify my Love for you.
I know that it sounds fanatical, yet, if there is a heaven, where inevitably you are destined to reign, then I don't want to sound speechless in front of a jury of angels if God himself were to ask me to prove to his court that I Love my woman.
So before you are given those wings that you so rightly deserve, I would answer by saying; my woman means more to me than your heaven’s demise means to the devil.
Time is of the absolute essence around her presence, because every minute feels deceivingly like a second, and the more I wish time would delay its course, simply so that I have the whole of eternity to hold her close, the more my desire remains unfulfilled.
What's even more so frustrating, and never fails to astound me, is knowing that there is someone out there who can break my most resilient of moods through the use of meager words.
I would do whatever it takes to ensure her safety, even if it included putting my own at risk and I am confident of the fact that if we were to share time oceans apart, the thought of her alone would be heartening enough to strengthen during fragile moments.
It would be unmanly of me to stand here and claim that there aren't others out there who pray for her to come home to them, but I'm certain that they don't prey as much as I do, you yourself have bared witness to that.
I ask of you to tell me why you chose to bless, or plague (as the brokenhearted might argue), us with such a commanding emotion. An entire race, potentially, at its mercy.
I know that I am in Love, but I don't know what it is about her that has left me fallen so deep into it, especially when not so long ago I considered the emotion a nonentity. I can go so far as to say that I don't just Love my woman, no, what I feel is a successor to Love. What I feel is innovation for emotion. What I feel is original to me and only me.
What I feel is; her thoughts through my mind...
Her blood through my veins...
Her tears through my eyes...
Her pain through my scars...
What I feel is...
At which point I'm sure God would interject and ask; Love?
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