The patient of love, their story I kept,
Recounting it, breath by breath, as I wept.
But when the eve of sorrow's mention came,
The dawn's own lamp, extinguished by the flame.
I vowed to leave love, this treacherous art,
But lured by a smile, I played a new part.
Before I could rise, once fallen and frail,
Another stumble, as I start to fail.
Is there a limit to promises broken?
Count in your heart, the truths unspoken.
The day of judgment arrived, slow in its pace,
The day of meeting, changing in its place.
In letters I wrote, "My heart is distressed,"
Their answer returned, "Why did you invest?
Who asked you to love, to feel and to crave?"
The heart will find solace, the heart will behave.
I care not for mine, this heart's turmoil,
But fear this young heart will be spoiled.
That their tender feet will be twisted and sore,
As my heart, of stone, is crushed to the core.
Our guest arrived, but how long could they stay?
The candle was out, yet the stars held their sway.
O 'Qamar', how swift was their haste to depart,
They went to their home, as the moonlight lost its heart.
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