Well, it’s awful yet funny, at some point, that I am having amnesia lately.
Above the life, yet inside it,
It resides magnificently at the ninth cloud;
Sending glee and hope within
Something vain, yet serene as shroud.
Its name is love,
What else can it be?
That gives and takes at all times
The life of an A, stabilized with B.
Countless have earned it.
Countless have found;
The sense of living residing in it,
The ruby of vanity with fate inbound.