They say love is beautiful
I didn’t doubt that … I believed in it
But lately, I began to ask if it’s that wonderful.
Why do we have to fall in it to be in it?
Why does it have to make us helpless?
Does it mean that rising in love is graceless?
Does it make you love less?
Or does it make you loveless?
If love is lovely, why don’t the ones we love love us back?
And the ones we fight to keep never really stay
They probably make fun of us at our backs
Yet we still love them anyway
We break out of one cos of the heat
And then we swore never to get in another
Cos we’re scared of how the cycle repeats
But soon, we carelessly fall in love again with another
They say life is a game and love is the prize
Why then do people play, not caring about the prize?
While some care so much about the prize that they forget about the game
In the end, when it all goes down, they have but themselves to blame
If falling I love is being weak, where then is the strength to love?
If love is meaningful, why do people have to die for it?
If you say it’s poisonous, where then is the antidote to love?
And when it hits you unprepared, what do you do about it?
If love is blissful, why then is it not enough?
Why does maintaining it have to be so tough?
If love is easy, why does it take a lot of sacrifice?
And why do the sacrifices never suffice?
I guess we’ve finally fallen into something we know nothing about
I think it’s like a dessert surrounded with nothing but drought
Like a big cage without a way out
Well … if this is love, I guess I should be on the lookout!