What is love but the air we breathe?
What is love but the sun on our backs?
Is it love that drives us humans to be?
Is it love that keeps us on track?

Love is the color of the setting sun;
Blissfully orange, tomorrow's blooming begun.
Love is the taste of a bitter ***;
Down your throat does it's fire run.

Be it love that grieves us so?
Be it love that gives winter's sorrow?
It is love lost, I am told,
That makes the human heart grow cold.

What is love but the darkness of the night?
What is love but heartbreak's plight?
Love is just a waste of time
If I can no longer call you mine.