Love is the light of the Almighty,
Rising softly in the heart, greeting the soul,
Flowing like a river in the valley of life,
Bringing hope to life amidst despair.
It is present without form, but felt,
Erasing wounds, stringing together hopes,
Uniting souls that were once separated,
In the arms of love that never tires.
......
I bleed words out of my heart again,
a slow, rhythmic pulse of syllables,
spilling onto the pristine canvas of paper.
Each drop, a testament to the ache within,
as hope pushes the edge of my chest again.
I write in the language of longing,
a tender melody of ink and pain,
weaving verses like delicate tapestries
that whisper of love's transient touch.
......
Love is the light of the Almighty,
Rising softly in the heart, greeting the soul,
Flowing like a river in the valley of life,
Bringing hope to life amidst despair.
It is present without form, but felt,
Erasing wounds, stringing together hopes,
Uniting souls that were once separated,
In the arms of love that never tires.
......
I bleed words out of my heart again,
a slow, rhythmic pulse of syllables,
spilling onto the pristine canvas of paper.
Each drop, a testament to the ache within,
as hope pushes the edge of my chest again.
I write in the language of longing,
a tender melody of ink and pain,
weaving verses like delicate tapestries
that whisper of love's transient touch.
......