Love is a fire that burns without flame;

Wound that hurts and can't be felt;

non-contented contentment;

Pain that causes madness without hurt.

It's not wishing better than wishing good;

It's a lone walk amonst crowds;

It's an unsatisfaction in satisfaction;

It's even winning by losing.

It's being tied by wish;

It's serving, to who wins, the winner;

It's being loyal to the one who kills us, loyalty.

But how can its favor cause conformity in the mortal hearts,

Being love so contrary to itself?