There's a soft silver glow,
in those who have been shattered.
And oh my, what a sight it is to gaze at.

Because love is a cruel thing.
Love makes me weak.
Love makes me scared
Love makes me fight.
Love makes me hurt.
Love makes me die.
Because love is not about me;
It's about you.

When it's love, it's patient.
Even with the chaos;
The roaring skies,
The quaking earth,
It's patient.
And despite the heavy thoughts,
love will try and make sense of it all.