Love is remembrance of useless things,
The pain in scapulae from brocken wings.
Love is the power we can not resist.
Love is deception. It cannot exist.
Love is the interlock for our minds.
Love is unrest and woe for that who finds.
Love is exeption of the whole world
From lovers' brains that, I can say, are curled.
Love is destruction. Yes. But truth to tell,
The life without love is bloody hell.
Love is amazing magic we can do.
Love is two wanderers in one canoe.