"Love Is..."

Love is...

The melody of their laughter.

It sounds like the best music to your ears.

Love is...

The exhilaration you feel

when they come running to 

share something that made them happy,

with you.

Love is...

The intense desire

to see them happy,

come what may.

Love is...

This night,

the moon,

the rustle of

the drooping leaves.

The painting in our mind-

 

painted in the colours outside.

Realizations and Limits.

Not everyday do you realize
that each ounce of discomfort
would pile up,
to form
a peak
so tall,
that, when it falls,
it actually just
inverts itself,
and a peak becomes
a trench.

The depth
is dark,
the depth
is deep.
It's a lonely place
in that pit,
only a dot of light
may or may not
be seen.





Why then,
even when
we know,
how deep
the darkness goes,
how empty,
the loneliness
envelopes the soul:

Why then,
not everyday do we realize,
that each ounce of that discomfort
makes a peak,
and the peak makes
a trench,
and a void,
full of a cacophony of silence
fills up the heart,
crushes the mind?