somewhat healed

Love will hurt, a fleeting sting, A fire that burns but still takes wing. It tips and turns, a restless tide, A force that sways, yet won’t subside. It dances wild, both fierce and free, A raging storm, a quiet plea. Through shattered nights and distant cries, Love speaks in echoes, never lies. It scars the heart yet soothes the soul, A paradox beyond control. For every wound, it plants a seed, A fragile bloom, a quiet need. Through every ache and every fall, Love stands the tallest, after all. Though flames may scorch and pain may stay, Love finds a light in shadows grey.