For She rarely dreamed
Of passion and accomplishment.
For her life was ruled with
Love and affection.

While He was one of the truly
Passionate people anyone would meet.
Always burning with hope and progressive ideas.

Maybe she couldn’t have flourished with him.
Maybe he wouldn’t respect her love and affection.
Maybe she couldn’t keep up with his burning fire.
Maybe they’ll both die in the same fire.

But they rised!
For she learnt the fire out of him.
And he learned the warm blood with her.

Profound as it may sound
For they burnt and rised
With each other’s strengths
Instead of sucking on each others weaknesses.

For She would talk and talk and talk
And He would stay mute and mute and mute.
For even when she was Fil-l-ed with all the weeds and mud,
She would talk.
And he would stand mute.
For when she grew tired of talking
His silence would provide some solace.

For when her words
Were thrown back at her
By The Elders,
He’d ask her to stop.

For she was better of a fighter than him.
But never would he leave her alone.
Silence and calmness is all
He could speak with.

For even if they were too embarrassed
Of the heat of love,
Their words
Were love enough!

She studied but had to stop.
He was a better qualified scholar
than Her.
Even if their standard qualifications differed,
Both,
Were the faces and voices
Of Struggles and Fights.
Just different spaces
And different ways,
Fighting for common rights.

Having no much time
To touch and behold
To feel each others arms
And fingers
And lips,
Their heat
Would still find solace
In the heat
Of their struggles and fights.

For such is the profound lower Love
With uncommon ways
Of humour and intellect
But only aligning fights.