Some say love, it is a river that drowns the tender reed.
Some say love, it is a razor that leaves your soul to bleed.
Some say love, it is a hunger, an endless aching need.
I say love, it is a flower, and you its only seed.
Its the heart, afraid
of breaking, that never learns to dance.
Its the dream, afraid of waking, that never takes a chance.
Its the one who wont be taken, who cannot seem to give.
And the soul, afraid of dying, that never learns to live.
When the night has been
too lonely, and the road has been too long,
And you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong,
Just remember in the winter far beneath the bitter snows,
Lies the seed, that with the suns love, in the spring becomes The