Some people say that love is selfish,
Some people say that love is selfless,
Some people say that love is given,
Some people say that love is possessive,
Some people say that love is a constant follower,
Some people say that love is the fulfillment of letting go,
Who can interpret what love is?
It's the icing on the cake,
Or send charcoal in the snow,
It's a trickle of water,
Or choppy waves,
It's a broken thread,
Or the loose fallen leaves.
You come softly and go softly.
Leaving no trace of love,
But it takes away youth and purity.
(Indifferent to the shadows)
