The moment my eyes met yours my heart started longing for things that I never had, a love that I never felt

If asked to name love in a single word,

I’d whisper your name, soft as a bird.

But one word alone could never suffice,

For love, with you, is boundless, precise.

I'd speak of our spark, a flame that won't dim,

Of the solace I find when you pull me in.

When we embrace, I am home at last,

A haven eternal, unshaken, steadfast.

Your glance ignites a leap in my heart,

A symphony sweet, a work of pure art.

Your touch, so gentle, like whispers of rain,

A balm to my soul, erasing all pain.

I thought I was whole till you came to me,

Unveiling the depths of what love could be.

Now my heart overflows, an infinite stream,

With love to give you, the heart of my dream.

One word cannot hold this tidal wave,

A love so vast, even time can't enslave.

For when I met you, words burst in a flood,

Like lightning's etch, carved deep in my blood.

Star-struck by the gaze in your dazzling eyes,

I wonder, is this what we call soul ties?

No one will ever love you the way you love them,  
Nor cherish you the way you cherish them.  
We dream, we hope, we ache to find,  
A love that mirrors heart and mind.  

But no—this world is cruel and bare,  
The givers give, yet none will share.  
We pour our souls, we spill our light,  
Into the void of endless night.  

We give, we burn, we tear apart,  
Fueling fires from a hollow heart.  
Hoping one day, perhaps, we'll earn,  
A love as pure as what we yearn.  

But no—our giving goes unseen,  
Our brightest flames turn cold, serene.  
Behind four walls, in shadowed grace,  
We crumble in a quiet place.  

The angels hear our silent cries,  
As pieces of our spirit dies.  
Still, we cling to fragile dreams,  
Of love as vivid as it seems.  

Movies paint a fleeting glow,  
Of tender hearts that heal and grow.  
But we, the givers, bear the cost,  
Forever giving, forever lost.  

They take our light, our endless joy,  
Until there's nothing left to destroy.  
Then leave us hollow, dim, and bare,  
To mend alone in our despair.  

Yet still, we rise, though beaten down,  
To wear again love's fragile crown.  
And once more, the cycle turns,  
Our hearts ignite, our spirit burns.  

But love, for us, is a curse, a blight,  
A beacon fading into night.  
Behind these walls, we break, we mend,  
A story cursed to never end.