Love is like a battle trial:
A wind that's playing with the skirts.
Sometimes it meets denial
And it often hurts.

Love is like bipolar maniac:
Sometimes it stabs you in the chest
And later like almighty fairy,
It makes you feel like you are blessed.

It is unsteady and capricious:
Sometimes attracts, sometimes repels.
Somehow it's innocently vicious:
It makes all heaven turn to hell.

Its nature is incomprehensible,
Some say it's just a hormone state,
That makes you act and be insensible,
 So you could recreate.

But if you ever had this feeling,
You know it's something more that,
Because your soul is somehow healing
From all the pain and all the bad.

Destiny plays with its dice
In the roulette spin.
In the world of greed and vice
Love is not a sin.