Category Archives: Love

What have we done?

Posted by enreal on

What have we done to the world
What have we done to each other

We have damaged
And broken one another

We feel the pain
We feel the woe

When will we understand
When will we accept

Something to be done
Not sure how to start

Pain we can endure
We are meant to face

Like it is meant to be
Like it is said to be
We must begin to see

Build through the damage
Rummage through the waste

We can make it
Things could get better
We could be better

All this endless hate
All this wasted energy

Imagine what it would be
If we made it be

Imagine what it could be
If we make it be

We need to achieve
We need to accomplish one thing
Unlike anything we have ever done
We need to make it be
What is it?
You will see…

Together

Posted by enreal on

Tell me your thoughts
You share my reflections

Tell me your desire
You share my wants

Share with me your life
You share my existence

Speak to me your promise
I will break to you no vows

Be with me
I am with you

Be One
And all is done

For we as one
Have but begun

love

Posted by enreal on

Love

Love. Does true love exist?
Does true love exist as depicted in countless stories, or innumerable actions or infinite works of art?
When the emotions that come forth under the perfect circumstances make you feel more alive than before, is that not a sign?
The perfect words, the perfect setting as if an uncontrollable force that is driving for true happiness and love is alive.
Alive and well.
Almost chaos.
That is love.
If the emptiness felt when I read these words or imagine the setting is a glimpse into the unlikelihood of it happening, and the reality that happiness like that can never come forth, then what reason is there to hope for true love?
Truth be told,
deep down in the pain,
there has always been hope,
it comes with the soul.
If hope comes with the soul,
embedded within,
how is it possible to feel that much pain and want?
The want for nothing other than the perfect love.
For the soul can have only one perfect love,
and that perfect love is unattainable.

Or is it?