Poets speak the language of love
Choruses oft sing its song.
Authors write verses of its lore
Whilst angels proclaim it to the throng.
Love, like Janus the ancient,
Doth assume diverse form and faces,
It knows no barriers twixt man nor, beast
Has not limit for gender nor races
Love, a conception, desire its cradle,
To bond kindred spirits bereft of all fears,
For some but a word, a tool for their want,
To others, a cloth to wipe away old tears.
What word hath more power when spoken in truth?
Speak from your heart, in voice ever clear.
For gifted to all, understood by so few
That the manner of love may be preserved ever dear.