My Merciful Heart Poem by Aminath Neena

Those eyes, they tell me tales that speak f'r themselves
in a language that which the likes of them stars speak
and so does the flower gnomes and the ocean elves
whilst, those actions bid to me otherwise as bleak

Shall I perceive thee from my own merciful heart's rind
that which smiles flirting at thee nonchalantly
and ignore the wrath of my own relentless mind
where time hath scyth'd and hath left its mark bluntly?

Should I not conceal these desires of mine temporarily?
Hast I to submit my woman's glory to defy this fate
and risk the woe of being disillusion'd momentarily?
Shall I not but allow things to fadge at their crown state?

Nay, surrender I shall not! Nay me in a thousand tempest years
f'r such bravery in the name of love is music, only for a fool's ears