TAKE ALL MY LOVES

Take all my loves, my dearest, take them all,
What more, my love, could ever be your call?
No love remains, my heart, to truly thrall—
All mine was yours, ere this new love did fall.

If, for my love, you now its fruit receive,
I cannot blame you, nor should I deceive,
Yet fault may lie if you yourself aggrieve,
By tasting what you once refused to believe.

I pardon your theft, my gentle, charming thief,
Though all my wealth you've taken, oh, so brief.
My existence feels no greater loss, no grief,
Than bearing love's wrong, a burden past belief.

Lascivious grace, in whom all flaws disguise,
Inflict me with your spite, let no enmity rise.
But still, my love, let us in passion's guise,
Forge a path where forgiveness never dies.

In this poetic dance of joy and woes,
Our hearts entwined, where tender love still grows,
Let's build a world where understanding flows,
And on the bed of empathy repose.

So take my love, my dearest, it is yours,
In this embrace, where empathy restores,
A love that's deep, where understanding soars,
Beyond the strife, where love itself explores.

Imran Nazeer
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