Is it true? Can it be? Does love runout? Expire? can love be packaged off neatly in a box and shipped else where? Can love become stagnant like a puddle brewing up disease ? Is love for another simply but the desire of ones lovelessness of oneself? Is the idea of wholeness in partnership, an equal virtue, or does love tip and sway as the ocean levels and the breeze? Does love fade away, like a memory, a ship lost at sea, without an anchor to hold on to thee? Is love just an awaken memory of a time of bliss? Is love a need for revival within? A revival of an empty hallow soul unwilling to be filled yet needing to be penetrated, manipulated, bend. Does it stand a chance? When eyes are closed, unaligned? Does love run out?