Raneem Kayyali

It matters not what my brain knows, but what my heart feels.

Thou art but a feeble flower in the garden of the universe, yet thou hath a purpose much greater than thyself.

This funny thing we call love, how simple it may seem. To say it is sometimes enough but to feel it is a dream.

We don't find love, love finds us. What you put out into the universe will find its way back to you.

Can you hear the echoes of a faint whisper in the breeze? Can you smell the fragrance of the roses and the trees? Can you see my soul reaching out from within? Can you feel my fingertips dance upon your skin? Let the sky fall dim as our love ignites, losing sense of the days and the never-ending nights.

Within the whispers of love, I found my heart. Within a glimmer from a ray, I found my soul. Within both, I found myself.

Let your emotions guide your hand to the paper and watch how your sorrows can turn into beauty. For tears relieve your body but writing relieves your heart.

I spend my days trying to remember what only my soul knows but my mind can't comprehend.

Thou doth not know the tragedy of a tale between two hearts till the tears of a forgotten love dissolve into the scars of yearning and seep through the cracks of the broken, leaving behind a trail of crimson for all but one to see.

At times poems can be like riddles, too difficult to decipher or comprehend. But how else does one come to understand what can only be felt but not said?

Every yesterday we lose ourselves so that we can find ourselves in tomorrow.