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Description
The quintessence of our hope and despair.
We long for it to do us good, yet it can ultimately lead us into our downfall.
A need to be whole with another, our own significant other.
A love for one ultimately needs to pay the price.
For nothing is truly free without strings attached, be it hearts or hands.
Someone will feel pain as well. For when love between two is born, pain is the fruit of labour.
Love itself is its own fruit. One taste invokes so many flavours.
Lust, ecstacy,joy, giddiness, galantry, seduction. The flavours change each time you dive into it.
Yet as of late, our fruits have become tainted with corruption.
Artificially created love - arranged in a neat little bow tie and dress.

Love isn't dead, it just lost its true meaning.