Love doesn't wound; it heals It holds and folds, And calms your fears. It seals the cracks, it soothes the ache, It doesn’t fail; it shifts, it sways, And stretches wide through endless days. It molds to us, it learns our form, It cures, it's kind and holds on tight, And brings darkness into light. What breaks us isn’t love—it’s loss, The space left raw, the weight, the cost. Where love should be but is withheld, When it doesn't give back the love we felt.