Voice of Love

I do not blossom,

I am frigid, cold,

awaiting the sun’s rays;

I hear silence setting

on a barren hillside, but

joyous noise at the core.

I sit here, alone.

I sit here, the only one

true to my name.

I sit here, watching

the mimics as they leave.

They get plucked,

only to die soon.

Will I be plucked?

I am latent,

I am forever.

I am unjust, yet

sometimes I bring joy.

I am overlooked

in false pretense.

I am powerful,

I am quick, I am

Not what I am.

I am Love.

–Hasan Habib

Advertisements

One Comment Add yours

  1. Ammar Nasir says:

    i think i just made ghusl in my tears, thats how beautiful this was <3 ily

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s