YOU WARNED ME

As I intimated to you about the fire of adore,

 Ignited unconsciously for you, in my core;

You warned me of the consequence of adding air to the fire,

“It’s dying and killing, be sensible,” you whispered.

You were half-right and half-wrong, in your expressions,

As sensibility, have no harmony with a blind devotion.

I will not bother if it is proved to be dying for me one day,

But I will not allow it to be a killer for you any day.

I told you “It’s glorious and God’s most blissful blessings,

I will fetch you the warmth and light aspect of the things.”

Since then I am firm to prove my words right,

And not allow the killing flame touching your skirt.

Resolute to protect you as a camel does to its owner,

In the desert in a sandstorm behind its huge structure.

If any day you will begin to feel a burning sensation,

Of the fire, report an inconvenience and need protection,

I will veil it promptly with my winding-sheet,

And will absorb in my last breath all the heat.

But I will not let the feather of your wings be broken,

And the soul of love be defamed or your entity be shaken.