Sometimes the days could be sunny,
yet life still seems so cold.
The self yearns for another
to love and to hold
Sometimes the days could be frigid,
and still, life is full of warmth.
The self has found another
to embrace in its arms
Sometimes the days could be rainy,
alas life is still dry and dead.
The self, held captive by loneliness;
love, from it, has fled
Sometimes the nights could be scary,
yet life is filled with dreams.
The self has been loved,
and loved so much, it seems.