O’ if the rose were given leave to sigh,
Or if the ocean wept for beauty’s sake,
Such tears would flood the ramparts of the sky,
And bid the sleeping stars in awe awake.
Yet thou, unknowing, passest through the dawn,
A muse unbound, in mortal semblance drawn.

So let the heavens bend to kiss thy tread,
And night adorn thee with her silver thread;
For in thy gaze, this fleeting world doth see
A glimpse of what the soul was born to be.
And I, a poet lost in mortal guise,
Have glimpsed the infinite through earthly eyes.

Though time may fade the bloom from beauty’s cheek,
Its echo in thy light shall ever speak.

Before the sun had kissed the waking skies,
Before the moon could open dreaming eyes,
You were a thought in realms beyond all sight—
A secret held in Mercy’s veiled light.

Not cast by chance, nor shaped by time or fate,
But crafted where the highest heavens wait;
From sacred clay, with Spirit gently blown,
You rose—a soul beloved, yet not your own.

A trust you bear, of breath and light composed,
A flame within, divinely interposed.
Where angels bowed at one majestic sign,
You stood, adorned by wisdom's grand design.

Each crease upon your palm, a sign unread,
Of mysteries the silent cosmos said.
Your gaze reflects the stars, the seas, the skies—
A mirror of the Truth that never dies.

You are the cup from which the cosmos sips,
The praise of God upon your heart and lips.
No idle dust, but destined and decreed—
A living verse, in word and will and deed.

So wear your form with honour, not despair,
For in that frame, the breath of God is there.
A servant crowned in dignity and grace—
The finest form in all of time and space.

O’ child of earth, yet lifted and refined,
You are the masterpiece the Lord designed.
Not merely made—but chosen, known, and free—
To walk the path of light and majesty.

What a reflection of my soul your heart must hold,
In its depths, my spirit’s secrets are unrolled.
Like a river that winds to the farthest shore,
Your love calls me home, forevermore.

In the quiet of your gaze, the universe lies,
The stars themselves speak through your tender eyes.
Your heart, a sanctuary, where time does cease,
In your embrace, my soul finds peace.

The world is but a shadow, fleeting and small,
But in your love, I find the truth of it all.
Your touch, a balm to my restless mind,
A haven where my spirit is entwined.

What a reflection of my soul your heart must be,
In your love, I see all eternity.
Boundless and pure, like the eternal sky,
Together, we soar, where angels fly.

For in your love, I have found my place,
A home in your heart, a sacred space.
What a reflection of my soul your heart must be,
A mirror of my dreams, forever set free.

O’ Cup-Bearer, reveal Thy flame,
Let not this weary soul grow tame.
No earthly drink can touch the deep,
As one true glance that makes me leap.

Through barren lands my spirit roams,
Unchained, unbound, it seeks its home.
All vows I made, all oaths I swore,
Were swept away when Love’s door tore.

Pour not from cups of earthly clay,
But let Thy gaze light up my way.
No goblet holds the wine I seek—
I drink the glance that makes me weak.

What need of wine, or earthly grace,
When Thy pure light fills all space?
O’ stream of truth! O’ starry gleam!
Engulf the world, and birth the dream.

I know the tavern, I know the door,
Where souls are lost and spirits soar.
Strike out my name, my transient breath—
And write me in the book of death.

Not death of flesh, but death of “I”—
That I may in Thy Truth arise.
Thou art the Flame, the Sea, the Sky—
The Breath where all the ages lie.

So pour, O’ Bearer, pour the light,
Let soul be drowned in Thy delight.
No glass remains, no self, no shore—
Naught but Thy gaze, forevermore.

Your lips, they speak in whispers sweet,
A language only hearts can greet.
In every kiss, a universe,
A silent verse, a lover’s curse.

O’ Jamil, how exquisitely thou art graced,
A vision formed of light, of time and space.
Thy beauty, like the dawn’s first whispered sigh,
Doth grace the heavens and adorn the sky.

Thine eyes, like pools of sapphire softly gleam,
Reflecting stars and every secret dream.
Each glance a poem, each look a world apart,
A tale of love inscribed within the heart.

Thy lips, like petals kissed by morning’s dew,
Speak truths so gentle, tender, warm, and true.
In every breath, a symphony doth rise,
A melody that lingers 'neath the skies.

O’ Jamil, thou art the moon’s soft glow,
A beauty only illuminating stars and poets know.
Thy form, a work divine, an art, a prayer,
A timeless grace beyond all mortal care.

Turn thy beautiful eyes toward me,
Not as mere mortal meets the sea,
But as the dawn with reverent flame
Beholds the night, and speaks its name.

A pilgrim lone, through shadowed vale,
I seek the breath behind the veil.
Not ease I crave, nor lover’s kiss,
But that which dwells in deeper bliss.

The world is but a fleeting shade,
Its glories brief, its colours fade.
Yet in thine eyes—a sovereign fire,
That stirs the dust with old desire.

Not roses red, nor spring’s perfume,
But Truth that blossoms from the tomb.
A voice that calls from heights unknown,
To rise, to stand, to be alone.

Thy gaze recalls that golden hour
When man walked forth in sacred power.
Thou art the mirror vast and wide,
Wherein my higher self doth hide.

So turn thy gaze, and lift me hence
Beyond the stars, beyond the sense.
Let this poor self in light be lost—
For all is gain, whate’er the cost.

Be a poem, O’ Prettiest, not mere breath—
A song that lingers past life and death.
Not dust in the wind, nor fading light,
But verses born of truth and might.

Do not doze in slumber’s keep,
While dreams like stars in silence sleep.
Be the lamp that greets the morn,
The spark from which the soul is born.

Within your veins a rhythm flows,
A secret only silence knows.
Time bears a tune that waits in you—
A golden song, eternal, true.

Kindle your core, let spirit rise,
For heaven sees through watchful eyes.
Be not a whisper lost to air,
But voice of fire, bold and rare.

You are no myth, no fleeting flame—
But sacred blaze none dare to tame.
If storms of time you do not bind,
Then be the tide that stirs mankind.

This world’s a stage, a shifting mist—
Be its refrain, O’ Prettiest.
A cry, a kiss, a sacred sign—
The mirror where all truths align.

Ask not the worth of your own name—
You are the self, the living flame.
Be melody the soul reveres,
Love’s voice that echoes through the years.