The Flame That Wouldn't Die

This ghazal speaks of endurance — of love that refuses to fade even in absence. It captures that quiet ache of remembrance, where longing itself becomes a sacred flame. In the solitude of night, the poet’s heart continues to burn with devotion, transforming pain into light.

In the heart of night, your light still burns,

The flame of your name within me still turns.

You left — my garden is cold and bare,

Yet your memory lingers softly in the air.

The moon fell weeping into clouds above,

Your gaze still smiles through the ghost of love.

I remain beneath the hush of dusk’s embrace,

Still burning for the sight of your face.