Absolute Love

There is something about this thing called love,
That kindles within us the a soul-spark of passion,
Yet it seems like we are starting to forget,
The real joy of its tenderness and compassion,
“True love” is nothing but an empty oxymoron,
That tricks us into waiting for what likely won’t come,
The thought of it placates us with empty promises,
While time goes on with little sympathy,
And if, by happenstance, we actually find it,
It seems to be so deceptive and fleeting,
Each failure causes our hearts to grow cold,
And we give up on what could have been,
“True Love” is an empty and shallow lie,
That beguiles us into stale complacency,
We come to expect that things will just happen,
And when they don’t we simply give up,

But “Absolute Love” is nothing of the sort,
It must be planted as a small seed,
It is the sort of thing that one must create,
And once sown it must be tended to,
Absolute Love is like a cherished garden,
The endeavor must be made to get it started,
And then it must be weeded and pruned,
Lest it wither, die, and fall victim to decay,
Absolute Love is an endless yet satisfying task,
One must work to sustain it each and every day,
But the end reward is well worth the effort:
A garden that will always yield good fruits,
“Absolute Love” calls for absolute devotion,
Compassion and empathy and trust,
Loving one’s partner as one loves them-self,
And nothing less will ever do.

By Hegemony

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2 thoughts on “Absolute Love

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