I think I have rambled enough about love now. So, let me end the current series of posts on love with a short and satirical poem.
THE MYTH
"What is love?"
That's the question
You have to let go of
Like a loved one
With tenderness
And utmost care
For you can't address
Why life's unfair
Actually, no one can
No guru, no saint
Nor a medicine man
Knows love's true intent
Love's incomprehensible
So don't treat it
Like a statistical table
Instead ignorance you admit
And treat it with
Veneration and respect
Like you do for a myth
From times past perfect.
-- The End --
-- The End --
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