In the deepness of my soul, a veiled love rests
It is a tender love that runs through my veins;
It declines to fade away with time
And will reside in my spirit when I am no more
This dripping ink on the parchment refuses to budge
Indeed it is blood from grief and heartache;
It eats up my insides and leaves my hurting to immortal mourning
When my will becomes to stand by my reflection;
I gaze into the internal feature of my eyes
There is a reflection of a lone shadow; a beautiful silhouette
My hands reach to my lips;
Where I sense the thirst for affection
The hands go through strands of feathery hair;
Which seek a stroke from a outstanding ability
The tears which run down from the eyes to the neckline
Feel the vibration of suffocation
The body starts to quiver in woe;
Oh nay, woe is to those who did this to you; ya Husayn!
My ache is unknown to those whose hearts are sealed;
Only a legend can feel the withering of roses; the withering of my soul;
O Husayn; my love for thee is a fragrant of blossoms
An intoxication of mere passion
A battlefield of fondness and wounds
I attempt to seal your cuts and grazes
But my hand quivers in weakness
How can I seal the wounds of hurt; ya Husayn
When it you that heals my pain?
For the sake of Allah, no rude comments please. Much appreciated.
It is a tender love that runs through my veins;
It declines to fade away with time
And will reside in my spirit when I am no more
This dripping ink on the parchment refuses to budge
Indeed it is blood from grief and heartache;
It eats up my insides and leaves my hurting to immortal mourning
When my will becomes to stand by my reflection;
I gaze into the internal feature of my eyes
There is a reflection of a lone shadow; a beautiful silhouette
My hands reach to my lips;
Where I sense the thirst for affection
The hands go through strands of feathery hair;
Which seek a stroke from a outstanding ability
The tears which run down from the eyes to the neckline
Feel the vibration of suffocation
The body starts to quiver in woe;
Oh nay, woe is to those who did this to you; ya Husayn!
My ache is unknown to those whose hearts are sealed;
Only a legend can feel the withering of roses; the withering of my soul;
O Husayn; my love for thee is a fragrant of blossoms
An intoxication of mere passion
A battlefield of fondness and wounds
I attempt to seal your cuts and grazes
But my hand quivers in weakness
How can I seal the wounds of hurt; ya Husayn
When it you that heals my pain?
For the sake of Allah, no rude comments please. Much appreciated.