Th Unknown

eTo love.
Love is complicated
Like a being
Unwanted at times
Yet cherished at others.

Love is unknown.
Love could be
And it could strive
It could live
Within the hearts of many
Or none.

Love is flame.
A spark of interest
Could turn into a
Amiable fire.
It could warm your heart
Melt away the cold
Turn you into someone
That you yourself love
Someone you didn't
Even know existed
Or it could back-fire
Blaze like anger
Or cremate what was
Once there.
It can be put out
With a small blow.
It can be brought back
It can be rekindled
Or simply left alone.

Love is to think,
To speak.
Incessantly dream
The one person or thing
Never seems to escape
The vastness
Of a mind so full
Of other things.
Yet they wish to think
Of only that one
Simple object
Or person
Push all others aside.

Love is believe.
To believe that nothing can happen
No one can break
You can't escape
From this wonderful warmth
Of love you have made.
To believe that
No one else could
Possibly bring as much
Happiness and anger
To you as that one thing
That one person.

Love is to hope.
To hope that nothing
Nothing at all
Will ever go wrong,
Take a turn for the worse
Like a fairy tale ending.
Starting with:
'Once upon a time'
And ending with:
'And they lived happily
Ever after.'
To wish so strongly
That that one object
That one person
Would come back
In the end.
Know of all their
Wrong doings
Appologize.

Love is different
To one it may be
Nothing more than
A four letter word.
To others it might mean more
Like to me it means
All of the above
And with a deeper meaning
One that only those
Who have honestly felt it
Can explain
Or maybe it's to complicated.
I could be just
blowing this out of proportion
Love could be
As simple as a feeling.
But is that even possible?
Maybe.