Season of Love?

If love could really be... Open thy heart and spread thy wings; Like the wind, thy soul will become free, And forever it could sing. The disasters of pouring April, By Nature were giving a second chance... To admire the innocence of the Angel, While creating the envied beauty of May. The world is composed of perfect distortion; Disguising behind lethargic tears of joy, But only ‘cause blood is deprived from immortal motion. Is it possible for love to become thy foe? The second chance of May melts thy frozen heart Destroying the scythe that timed thy seasons apart.