... give into him

what is beauty that isn't love, that

isn't cherished for its affection and

compassion, what is not love that

can lay on a bed of rocks but still

find comfort in the stock of frailties

it lays upon, what is this imperfection

that is so adored for the immortality

its not, what are you if love doesn't

reciprocate or define the knots tied

within your heart, your friendship,

passion and weakness for devotion

that is given in exchange for disregard,

who are we not to love each other so

that happy days are not hard at work

while sorrow plays at home in the yard,

please give into him who cares, who

finds pleasure in adoring your smile for

the next minute could be his last,

succumb to support, collapse before

a consoling spirit that gives into you

before his own individual longing,

what is angelic that quiet fears and

adheres to the conscience of adoration,

what is not love that doesn't

strengthens the calm of relaxation

while the soul is relieved from its own

mind of anguish, what is love that

doesn't revitalize the mess and defects

of its own imperfection, its secret self

within, your heart, your desire, your

soul that lays on that bed of rocks to

find delight on a rough surface that will

not give in, please give into him that

softens the heart yet is harden to

neglect and its indifference for he who

truly cares has no proof in words yet his

actions testify to a love that is geniune

in exchange for what defines you.