Love is not like a candle flame, which flickers away once the wax has melted.
Nor is it like the sun, which rises and sets each day.
It possess not the qualities of a nocturnal being, that only permits to reveal itself in the
still of the night.
Nor is it like the swallow that can only be seen in the light.
It is not materialistic, allowing it to die or vanish.
It is a radiant source that can only be felt by the soul.
It doesn’t diminish like the light of a lantern.
Nor does it tease like a firefly.
It continues to beat; though the heart has stopped.
It is immortal death, yet still in life.
It is not to be understood, for it is thought less of.