So then, what shall I believe? What shall we render? After all of our wanting and all of our sorrow, shall there even be a drifting memory? Will someone publish our weary diary? Then again, love, has no ending, there was no genesis and it will perceptually regenerate. Trembling soldiers attack, but are fallen at the whisk of love's hand. Yet we stand, waiting, longing, hoping for love. A simple molecule of belief shall delineate the mystery of its power, the source of life the meaning of every second, every minute, every hour. We will know love and it will set us free.
Yes, I am believer. I believe love is rich and flowing with energy beyond knowing. The first glance in a newborn's eye, the pedantic mutterings of wedding day vows, the consummation on a virgin's conquestual night, the glimmer or Alaska's first light...I believe, I believe in love.
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