Love

When the heart melts, what flows is love
That is the world's trove

Love knows not one direction
And has no source of action

Its the innocence of a child
Like the eyes of the blind

Ego beyond thine and mine
With a resolve such fine

Having no expectation or purpose
It flows as the only corpus

All that there is, is love
And that, my dear, is the world's only trove!






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