On Love

I've heard it said that it is there,
A feeling you cannot compare.
Though I've yet to find it,
I find my opinion split.

Is it true that it is good,
Does it feel the way it should?
A sense of trust, euphoria,
Though there are some that scoff at that idea.

Could it be, I've heard it said,
That the feelings above have been mislead.
That love is merely an ilusion,
Something we've made up in our heads; a folly dilusion?

I know not now, and fear,
Perhaps I'll never know if it's here.
I sit and wonder, longing so,
And keep myself stuck in this low.

I wish to know, if love is true,
Or simply a lie that we all run to?
Is it present, or dearth,
Is it absent from our Earth?

I suppose it could be either way,
It is not for me to say,
Until I encounter the feeling rare,
I cannot say if it is missing, or there.