Making Sense

In poetic fashion here goes an attempt

Albeit flimsy

To make sense of this feeling

Called LOVE

 

My mind endeavors to grope for words

To capture its essence

A feeble bid this may turn out

Yet strive I will

No matter the outcome

For every fiber of my being

Is a hapless victim of its power

 

A study of contrasts

This thing may seem

It rewards, yet castigates

Soothes, but torments

It gratifies, yet dissatisfies

Delights, but infuriates

 

Despite its paradoxes

A thought emerges

These seeming contradictions

May have been woven from the same fabric

Coalescing to create

An amazing amalgamation of feelings

 

This, then, is where its beauty lies

Where there are convergences of opposing elements

From both ends of the emotional spectrum

Fashioning an interlace of exquisite sensations

An interplay of parts unrelated

To fuse a complex whole

 

Prodigious, to say the least

For how can one truly measure

The enormousness of its meaning?

 

I take a cautious plunge

Drown in its ocean of bliss

Engulfed by the mighty expanse of its domain

It takes me in, I get lost

 

 

Recklessly I get effervescent

Reveling in the swim

Wantonly

Utterly clueless of what fate awaits me

Oblivious to the perils

Beyond the briny

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