It's become apparent that my realism seems, like or as real, but never quit matches, exactly how I feel.
So in the zeal of the physical, it’s the unseen that inspires, that god like power, that destroys and creates lives.
So there's no surprise, that in this divine like essence, forever will I thrive, yearning for its presence.
With persistence escaping my reach, in every stretching grasp, and evading my resuscitation, in my every waking breath.
Less I meet my death, know it will never end, both thick and thin in search, for the only known perfection.
Inexplicably making my world end, repeated round and round, so completely abnormal, and utterly unsound.
Love is like a weightless pound, levitated yet heavy, so it’s troubling and retching, when this mysterious thing besets me.
That head spinning beauty, and answer to all problems, The hero in misfortunes, and the only way to solve them.
The opposite of what dims, burning from the fueless fire, the straight path of enlightenment, beyond lust and desire.
Love takes us higher, seeing and sorting through the people,
magnifying for you your one, with no other, as an equal.
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