It starts with a kiss

It starts with a kiss

And ends with many tears:

A source of joy

Yet innumerable fears.

It trembles, it dances;

Frightens, entrances.

It laughs and it plays

But can darken one's days.


A fire that cannot be quelled

unless a part of it dies.

A pulse that will not be stopped

unless the aching heart breaks.


Sweet to some, bitter to others,

Bonding or splitting those who have felt it.

Absent for few, for there are many different forms.

Pleasant yet painful: rainbows but storms.


We naturally crave it,

can't bear isolation

But types which can end

can bring desolation.


What is this thing?

Well, what is one's heart?

What is:

caressing warmth, refreshing rain,

the beauty of the country?


It starts with a kiss...

A source of joy...

It dances, entrances;

It laughs and it plays:

it's love.


The End

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