Unchanged Things Remain

Even the fountains are athirst for her glance - as though it was rain

With no designs nor poetic plots, unchanged things remain

While time rages on, does it do so in vain?

Wandering the hallways of ecstatic and painful literature with relative ease

Led by a beckoning finger of balance - belonging to the Morning Breeze

In vessels of my blood see a woman, forever in her prime

Re-engraving in Bashir’s heart deeper, time after time

It’s from الله