words the heart made up

I) love

Yesterday I wondered: "Where does love come from?"

Because I really want to know where it all begun

How does it start, with the touch of a hand?

The blink of an eye, a mutual friend?

I read every book that is written on love

But none of them had information enough

I asked everybody I met on the street

How one can get one, and get one to keep

But at the end of the day, I was left disappointed

Because no one knew what is love, and how you can get it

So, I thought about it, if I can answer it better

And then realized that it didn't even matter

Yesterday I wondered: "Where does love come from?"

The more important question is: What does it become?

Hair like ash, but silver as the moon light

Life brought us together, and – surprise! - it was right

Right where we met there's a memorial of flowers

Hours that feel like fractions of hours

Our first house still means home to you and me

We spent three quarters of our life here

Here is where it all begun

And here is where the end will come

Hydrangeas bleeding in the field of your heart

It should be beautiful, in the beginning, when you feel it start

But you're sitting here, at the steps to his door

Desperately crying that you can't do this anymore

All this hiding and lying and making excuses

After months of tears and hoping you're the one who he chooses

You say that's too much, and I don't blame you for it

And maybe it's not worth to fight till you're exhausted for this