Some individuals possess a need,

To dissect love, to overanalyze,

To impose complexity upon simplicity,

Obscuring love's true essence.

Others may spend their entire span,

Attempting to unravel what isn't cryptic,

Solving a puzzle that was never a puzzle,

Searching for answers they already have.

Love, in its essence, is straightforward,

Its true meaning is not to be labored,

The willingness to fight, For the happiness of another,

With no motives or hidden agendas.

To see a smile grace another's face,

To bring joy to the heart of another.

Even if it means self-effacement,

Denying oneself for another's contentment.

Even if the end result,

Is misery for oneself.

To love someone is to risk it all,

To clip your own wings,

Just to see their heart take flight