Afterall...

It was supposedly once
You meet somebody.
Who tugs at something,
That you really never realized.
Hidden Glances and futile chances.
Trying to make excuses.
To make up conversations,
To be near them.
Accidently meeting them somewhere.
Sometimes mentally stunted for words.
Becoming pink to your heart's content.
Unknowingly you hide behind,
The veil of your embarassment.
Torching you to a new high.
Breathlessness of senses colliding.
Feeling of a certain rush in tandem.
All the signs pointed to the obvious.
Only to know it never lasted.
All just play for being fooled.
To the reality that existed.
So many times spent in pursuit.
Eventually waking up to the truth.
It was never a bed of roses.
Just an illusive garden of hopefulness.
That drifts into loneliness of a tepid desert.
Words aren't enough
To tell how you feel...
It isn't idealism anymore
To think what love is.
When what it is,
Is a question thats never answered.
It just remains there high above.
Like a figment of imagination.
Many versions exist.
The right one thats sought by some.
Remains absent in this abyss.
Love-Do not know what it is,
Don't intend to find it.
Just hoping to feel it,
When the time seemingly is right.
Afterall...