Love cannot be named or confined,
It exists without shape or line.
It’s not a feeling, not a thing,
Just present, as if it’s always been.
No words can capture its essence,
It’s beyond all traits and presence.
It’s not a thought we can describe,
But simply what is, without disguise.
It has no edges, no clear start,
It’s simply what it is, within the heart.
Love is neither pure nor impure,
It just is, without measure.
In every moment, it just is,
A quiet stillness, free from frills.
Love’s essence is beyond our grasp,
Unbounded, timeless, simply as.
It exists without shape or line.
It’s not a feeling, not a thing,
Just present, as if it’s always been.
No words can capture its essence,
It’s beyond all traits and presence.
It’s not a thought we can describe,
But simply what is, without disguise.
It has no edges, no clear start,
It’s simply what it is, within the heart.
Love is neither pure nor impure,
It just is, without measure.
In every moment, it just is,
A quiet stillness, free from frills.
Love’s essence is beyond our grasp,
Unbounded, timeless, simply as.
Exactly yes...
