However hard you try
to put this feeling
into words..
and even if you are
the greatest
of all poets..
still you’re damned
to hopelessly
fall short.

In just about
all languages
it even has its own..
but whether
you may call it as
любовь or кохання,
love or amore,
or liebe..
just saying that you do
won’t make The One
who hears it
suddenly believe.

No word may ever
do it proper justice..
for, any word
may only reach
the hearer’s
heart
by proxy
of the hearer’s
head.

There is no guarantee
that any loving word
would make
its hearer
see the red.
It’s more about
who says it
and who hears it..
and much less about
exactly how
it’s said.

Dearly beloved..
if only that the truth
I laid out here
was not God-given
and indisputably
absolute..
out of my loving words
I’d build a monument
of love ineffable
and boundless..
just for you.

So that long decades past,
you may return to gaze upon
this wall of love, upon which
many loving words to you
I humbly bled.
I may not live forever..
but the words
I scribed upon it
would live on
as a reminder
of how much I loved you..
even after my death.