In the realm of whispered dreams and silent nights
In the realm of whispered dreams and silent nights,
Where shadows dance and stars ascend,
Lies a story, both old and new,
About the hearts of women and the mystical hue of love.
They do not wander in search of love's embrace,
But remain still, allowing passion to paint,
The contours of their souls, deep and vast,
While men chase the fleeting shadows of love.
Like the moon that does not chase the sun,
But bathes in its light when the day ends,
It's said that women do not seek the fire of love,
But enjoy its warmth, a silent longing.
Men, like waves, crash upon their shore,
Hoping to be the one they adore,
And yet, the deep ocean remains untouched,
Its mysteries hidden, its secrets clutched.
In the dance of hearts, a melancholic song,
Men love with passion, with a powerful force,
While women, gracefully, allow themselves to be,
The canvas on which love unfolds its frenzy.
For in this enigmatic game of fate,
Men pursue, while women contemplate,
The mystical bond, so deep and profound,
Where love is felt, but rarely found.
And yet, in the quiet corners of the night,
When stars shine in the gentle moonlight,
There lies a truth, both bitter and sweet,
The true essence of love, where two souls meet.
For women may not chase love's flight,
But in their hearts, they seek the light,
Of a love so pure, so deep and grand,
Where two souls unite, hand in hand.
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