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أخبار ساخنة

?Why Did You Love Me

الصفحة الرئيسية

 


?Why Did You Love Me

I asked her, longing, full of need

Tell me the reasons, plant the seed


?Why did you love me

Because you're a child in a mother's embrace

safe in the warmth of her arms' grace

Because you're the lover who always aches

for his beloved—for her sake

Let me tell you more, and more, and more

You are my speech, my song, the shimmer on my crown's core

You race to my heart, my mind, my weakest hour

you are the writer, the ink, the paper's power



You are the poet, the feeling, the noble soul

the cure after God that can make me whole

You're the one I trusted in times of lies and spite

the one who mended my broken night


Let me soothe your heart a little more

You are my bird of love, my happiness in store

You are the writer, the artist—the greatest poet of all

the one who, given little, gives back in full, tall

You are the noble, son of the noble and pure




You taught me

You taught me to forgive every slip and flaw

taught me that trials come as faith's own law

You taught me that love's story is moments stacked

small things heaped up—never a single act


My life without you

a scramble of letters with nowhere to land

a scrap of paper between volumes, unmanned

a sip of water that leaves thirst unbroken

a wound that aches with no cure spoken

a fatal illness no doctor can mend

a lonely bird with no song to send




But you gave hope back to me

that the bad has passed as if it never came to be

that every joy approaching has already settled in

that every hardship, by the Merciful's reply, will bend and thin


And know this, my master

you are the sea to a ship's long quest

you are the magic that haunts love's chest

you are the sweetness in every bitter sting

you are the prize that a whole life can bring




My dear, let me tell you something true

don't think you're a man with no faults in view

No—the lover sees the beloved as perfect, whole

no flaw upon him, and leans his weight on that soul

Once love arrives, everything else drifts away

?so how dare we question what the heart has to say


It lies in the hands of the Owner of all unseen

He who shaped hearts and all they hold, not a thing in between




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