Where does thee lay in ye heart?
Does it stay seated so quietly so?
For it does have little affect of what thee does;
Or does it jump with every beat ye move;
For ye heart protects thee with care;
Or does it lay at the center of thy heart;
And race faster then ye itself could;
Casting a shadow of glory or a sorrow of pain?
Does it cause ye heart to stretch of boundaries never crossed;
And the blood to rush through thy body like so;
Is this what thee calls love?
This word does cause pain,
When the blood is soo thick, it hurts;
As ye body sinks to the ground;
Yet what if blood was as light as water?
How could ye feel?
Could ye live with no feeling?
And yet what if water turned as sharp as ice?
Would ye not cause it to melt?
Would ye fear love itself for love being ye sharp pain?
Blood is blood, as God created.
It would not help thee to change such thing.
Without pain there shall not be the word of love;
And without love ye can not live without.
Thus, love is thee cause
And love is thee cure
And blood as blood is what thee shall live with.
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