I've always sang of love and written about it long before I felt it.
Romanticism is something that is as complex as its substance.
To love, is something that can never be explained by all senses.
Not even by words, nor melody can describe its eternal complexities.
Yet here we all are, writing and singing of undying love, professing it
Whilst we ourselves do not understand it,
When we do not even have it.
But I guess, it's human nature to pretend to know what is beyond
Our own understanding.
Besides, what we know is always way behind of what we truly feel.
And I guess, that's the magic of love.
We are only limited by words, melodies, colors and strokes.
Perhaps, making art is how we deal with it.