I may think I feel love,
But it is love that feels me,
Constantly testing the woven fibers,
That enclose and protect my heart,
With a searing flame,
That allows no illusion of separation,
And as the insubstantial fabric of my inner fortress,
Is peeled away by the persistent fire,
I desperately try to save some charred remains,
By escaping into one more dream of passion,
I may think I can find love,
But it is love that finds me,
Meanwhile, love becomes patient and lies in wait,
Its undying embers gently glowing,
And even if I now turn and grasp after the source of
warmth,
I end up cold and empty-handed,
I may think I can possess love,
But it is love that possesses me,
And finally, I am consumed,
For love has flared into an engulfing blaze,
That takes everything,
And gives nothing in return,
I may think love destroys me,
But it is love that sets me free,
But it is love that feels me,
Constantly testing the woven fibers,
That enclose and protect my heart,
With a searing flame,
That allows no illusion of separation,
And as the insubstantial fabric of my inner fortress,
Is peeled away by the persistent fire,
I desperately try to save some charred remains,
By escaping into one more dream of passion,
I may think I can find love,
But it is love that finds me,
Meanwhile, love becomes patient and lies in wait,
Its undying embers gently glowing,
And even if I now turn and grasp after the source of
warmth,
I end up cold and empty-handed,
I may think I can possess love,
But it is love that possesses me,
And finally, I am consumed,
For love has flared into an engulfing blaze,
That takes everything,
And gives nothing in return,
I may think love destroys me,
But it is love that sets me free,
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