In search of the heart that stays
In a world of crowded hearts and empty eyes,
Where everyone is searching but few are truly wise,
Love is not a spark that simply falls from above—
It’s two trembling souls choosing to stay, and call it love.
We build our walls from yesterday’s pain,
Smiling in sunlight but drowning in rain.
We want the feeling, not the fight—
The promises of morning, not the tears of night.
We chase perfection in faces and names,
But forget that real love is tender, not a game.
It’s flawed, it’s patient, it breaks and it mends,
It’s not a fairytale—it’s choosing the same heart again.
Maybe that’s why true love feels rare,
Few are willing to stand naked and share
Their fears, their scars, their unspoken cries—
To let someone see the storm behind their eyes.
But somewhere out there, love still survives—
Not in perfect people, but in honest lives.
Two souls who stay, who heal and grow—
That’s the love most never find, yet secretly know.
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