Love is like water:
Colourless, scentless, tasteless.
One thing less it is not,
That, it being lifeless.
It is limitless, but not unlimited.
It is pure, but not clean.
It is vulnerable yet fierce.
It is perfect yet imperfect.
Running deep and wide,
It has nowhere to hide.
Capable of life and death,
During each and every breath.
It is not serendipity,
It is predestined availability.
Feasible for each and every soul,
Perchance lethally deceptive at the hole.
It is not to be taken for granted,
For it is a hard seed to be planted.
Something so clear and simple
Yet ambiguous and complex.
If water is holy and free,
Then why can love not be?
YOU ARE READING
Psychsis
PoetryWithin the embrace of my demons. · -------------------- · 𖥸 · -------------------- · This poetry collection contains sensitive and potentially triggering content such as substance use, self-harm and suicidal thoughts. Read with precaution.
