Bruised Love
In the garden of hearts, where love's flowers bloom,
Lies a paradox profound, in joy and gloom.
For with every petal, soft and bright,
Comes a thorn, hidden from sight.
Love whispers in hues of the deepest red,
Painting dreams in every heart it has led.
Yet, with its warmth, a shadow falls,
For love's embrace oft heralds walls.
In the silence of the night, under the moon's gentle light,
Souls entwine, holding each other tight.
But in the morrow's wake, when dreams fade away,
The pain of love's loss, in some hearts, may stay.
For love is an enigma, both cruel and kind,
A force that can both blind and bind.
It gives wings to the spirit, sets the heart free,
Yet can shackle the soul, in chains we can't see.
So we dance in its flames, willing to bear,
The pain and the joy, in love's tender snare.
For even in sorrow, there's beauty sublime,
In the enigma of love, through the passage of time.