By Nurish Hardefty
Between the morning and the sunset that touches,
Two faces are carved in the mirror of eternity.
You-with eyes that harbor a storm,
And me-with a soul that longs to go home.
Not because the world sees us as compatible,
But because your soul knows my pain,
And my hand-even though it's frail-never leaves
from the image of you walking beside me.
No words to say when we stare,
But time stands still every time we pass each other.
No need for promises sworn at the altar of heaven,
Because your presence alone is unshakable faith.
You-not a prince from a fairy tale with wings,
But a man from a deserted land and the wounds of the past.
Yet I, a woman made of rain and fire,
see you not from the form, but from the silence that understands.
If destiny is a pen, and time is paper,
then we have been written in silent letters
that only those who love understand
without ever truly belonging.
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