Love, a flame that burns in water,
When the ice melts, it but freezes,
The hottest day departs, but it gets hotter;
Leaving behind a husk, autumn deceases,
But Love descends from the Heavenly Sky,
To wake who died and perish all who ask, "Why?"
What is it if not love?
That is born when two hearts rhyme,
What is it if not love?
That lives between Death and Time.
Ah! And Love never says the petty “good-bye”,
‘Cause it certainly returns, when say I, "Good-bye".
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 12:46 AM UTC
Love, a flame that burns in water,
When the ice melts, it but freezes,
The hottest day departs, but it gets hotter;
Leaving behind a husk, autumn deceases,
But Love descends from the Heavenly Sky,
To wake who died and perish all who ask, "Why?"
What is it if not love?
That is born when two hearts rhyme,
What is it if not love?
That lives between Death and Time.
Ah! And Love never says the petty “good-bye”,
‘Cause it certainly returns, when say I, "Good-bye".
