When I am trapped in convoluted strings
Issuing trouble, melancholy and fears,
It is he who clasps me tight and brings
Forth my glee from blood covered tears.
He lies in my ticker and the breaths I heave.
And with every high and low,
He becomes the muse for the dream I weave.
He is holier than Thy presence, he is Thy shadow.
And I thank Thee for such a man in my life
Who leaves me not in dark
Even if I am left to face war and strife.
In my poorest memories too he has left a mark
That not even nature can disturb or
Can He undo. He is my strength, the root whence I hail.
My words, my acts shan't cross the brink of what he hath done for
Me and my good. I love him and he is the start and end of my tale.