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Love.
It is not a word, nor a single action.
In truth, it can never be wrong
Like the sunrise, perfect in every possible way.
It is many things and yet it must exist
in the small space of the heart.
Once found it can bloom endlessly, with no cease.
It can choke one's throat, bring one to tears...
but it never hides in shadows or in darkness
It never feeds itself on deception.
It ignores you and then
there it is when you give up hope.
It grows with trust, honesty and compassion.
Nothing less, always more.
Think you've found it?
It turns you down cold.
Think you've escaped it?
It has you in its hold.
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