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What's love?

What's love?
Can it be real without being true?
Or can it be true without being real?
Why does it exist when it can't be?
Why is it sometimes so hungry like a wolf?
And sometimes so cold as the mountain snow?

What's love?
Is it a name or an ideal?
Is it a Werther or a Romeo?
Why sometimes does it make us feel above everything?
And then smashes our spirits beyond the edge?

What's love?
Is it a feeling or a disease?
Is it eternal or just ephemeral?
Is it just watching from distance without touching?
The same way we watch a distant landscape?

© 2005 Eduardo Magela Rodrigues

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