Love is a fire that fires without seeing oneself;
It is a wound that hurts, and does not sit;
It is disgruntled contentment;
It's pain that undoes without hurting.

It is no longer wanting to want;
It is a lonely walk between us;
It is never content to be content;
It's a care you get by getting lost.

It's wanting to be stuck willingly;
It is to serve those who win, the winner;
It's to know who kills us, loyalty.

But how to cause your favour
In human hearts, friendship,
If so contrary to you is the same Love?