Within the weakness,
Strength itself would lurk.
I heard her steps
Akin to song of flutes
I followed her, and yet, in vain..
The only thing I own to give
Is pain.
She stood beside
The spring, the palms over her chest,
In hope to feel her heart's
Half-muted throbs.
There's nothing more divine,
No thing more blessed
Than love to those
Who make their heart
Our home.