Love is living when you'd rather die. In order to keep another's trust. It's reaching deep in-side one's self For something precious, on a shelf That you've been holding in your soul, But love consents to let it go. Love is seen within the eye. Love is heard from within a cry.
Love is felt through finger-tips.
Love is spoken through careful lips. Love's description is out of reach. But simply know, 'twill never die.