Studying Love
I am so inclined to read for I wish to know.
Although first it seems I have to understand the question which I seek to answer.
Unfortunately I do not yet have this question.
I would ask as many before me of love,
But as they have asked before and given the way the world still is,
To no success,
I fear that the question of love is not to be answered by humanity.
So then I just read.
I am torn from left to right, up and down,
About the existence of God from Voltaire
And the definition of the beautiful and sublime by Kant and Nietsche.
Contradictive the former is to the later.
So where then will I find some sort of universal truth, if such a thing exists?
I read more and I feel sick with a sense of digression from my first position.
I read of war
By writers who have experienced and had the knowledge to express it
With structure and form,
Writers that have passed times test and are regarded as the greatest,
Only to be contradicted by another who is held to an even higher standard.
I feel that I am watching this world pass by in third person,
But I believe myself to be waiting for truth that I can utilize
As a tool to make the best of my world.
Although I do not look to define love nor even read specifically about it,
I know it to be fact that answers lie somewhere in that single syllable,
Four letter word.
I believe this to be similar with my studies of literature
And all that the study entails,
To the way a scientist knows answers lie in the relation of gravity to magnetism.
But like them, I know not of a question,
I merely know that there is an answer.
In all of this said, I believe I have said nothing.
My previous sentence should define my life if I continue to look.
And so I turn to love once again,
Not to be defined but simply to act.
J’aime, and that should conclude my thoughts on the subject.
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