There's a saying that goes:
"When a writer falls in love with you, you can never die."
This poem I wrote in January 30, 2010.
As I was intensely in-love with someone during that teen years. I mused around the perfect meaning of love and how can I ma...
In this brokeness they could hardly manifest the real meaning of love.
It's only with love can we find perfect happiness, Only with love can we find unquestioning peace, Only with love can we edify our individual existence.
Love completes any achievements, It completes sacrifices, It completes the purpose of the creation of the universe.
It completes my neighbor, Completes my enemy, Even you and me.
Love in itself is perfect, But people are just broken. And I, I am just broken...
Love doesn't seek its own, It's not provoked, Love thinks no evil---and so didn't I.
Where is the great remedy to humanity? For we are like flocks with no shepherd. Who will come to cease this brokeness?
In my distraction, I seek and found a book which is totally different, 'Cause they spell love this way: G-O-D.
And with so much amazement, I stood still and witnessed the glory, Of that three-lettered Name possess.
And then, truly discovered the perfection of love in His character.
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