Love is quite a fickle emotion.
It'll find us at the worst of times,
It'll find us at the best of times.
And at that moment of being found,
We can only guess at how we'll be bound.
For the emotion is not only fickle.
It's all consuming.
It's a roller coaster.
It's a never ending ride
That hardly has a care for what you
Think,
Want,
Say.
Over the bumps.
Over the mountainous hills.
Over the ragged, stormy sea
And through the meadows where the wind
Rolls over the hills on a clear, sunny
Day.
It'll drag you along,
It'll force your heart to sprint
While all you can hear is
Th-thump, Th-thump, Th-thump.
For love is quite a fickle emotion.
It'll drive even the best of us mad.
We question ourselves,
We wonder what could have been
Better,
We over think the smallest of things.
And while this all goes on
It continues to pull us along.
Playing us like marionettes in a
Shakespearean play where all our world
Is but a play,
And we the simple characters to be,
Ridiculed
Pitied
Laughed at
By the peers that gather round to watch
For their own petty
Amusement.
Tragedy?
Humor?
Who's to say what's what
In this fickle emotion called love?
And while we're dragged along
And while we're being watched
We all gladly struggle.
We readily get played
To a tune only we can
Hear.
Because what a
Wonderful,
Agonizing,
Beautiful thing
The fickle emotion of love
Is.