What is love? The love, you ask me—
It’s pure devotion, soul’s decree.
When minds grow weak, but hearts stay true,
They hold each other, seen or through.

Though distance swells like oceans wide,
Their hearts still walk, side by side.
Eyes closed—yet feel the other near,
In sky’s soft breeze, their souls appear.

Love is so pure, so childlike true,
Where we unveil the child in you.
We giggle, stumble, fall, forgive,
In flawed delight, we learn to live.

We love our flaws, and theirs as well,
In quirks and faults, we softly dwell.
For in those cracks, the light gets in—
And makes us whole, beneath the skin.

It's not just marriage, nor a vow,
But deeper than the world allows.
A sacred bond, unnamed, unseen—
Yet felt where hearts have always been.

When they are near, the world turns still,
Their footstep sings, the air grows still.
Their breath, their walk, their quiet beat—
A melody in silence sweet.

Devotion woven, thread by thread,
Alive in tears, in joy, in dread.
Through hurt and high, through loss and gain,
They hold your soul in love’s refrain.

A sacrifice not made to boast,
But one that feeds your spirit most.
Not “I am right”—but “we are whole,”
Together braving every toll.

What is love? You ask again—
It’s where you face the world through rain.
It’s solace in a bond so deep,
Like mother’s love, before we weep.

What is love? You ask once more—
It’s when two hearts, through every war,
Still choose each other, every time,
In silence, speech, in storm, in rhyme.

Whether friend, or blood, or fate,
In every form, love resonates.
It is not owned, it is not named—
It’s felt. It’s lived. It’s never tamed