Let me draw on this canvass of plain nothingness. I see pixels here and there. It pops up, gets blurred and new ones come. This canvas remains, even when the pixels vanish. That is the story of love, for love does not vanish even if lovers hate, even if lovers die. Pixels die someday, lovers die someday. Love remains, and the canvas remains.
Rain, let it rain from the blue sky. Let it sing the praises of shadow, as it drops to the shadow of cloud. Let me cry a bit and say, the rain doesn't know that by the time it reaches ground there will be no cloud, there will be no shadow left. For all the love you have, O' raindrops, each second of your longing for the shadow tears the cloud apart. With great pain, thunderclaps and lightening, the cloud cries - get out of here O' you rain, you don't want me, you want my shadow instead.
LOVE is not a great place to start your love. O' man, love is not what you create, it is you who are created. The plain white canvas remains, as the sky remains high.