Sharp and silent in the clear October lighting, of a thursday morning,
In silence, the heart raves,
Love has not the power,
So gather it and put it neatly,
Love isn't a sunset from the red cliff of the mountains above,
And from the torrent or the fountain,
And from the trees that round me blow as it passed me flying by,
I believed that love is the conjunction of two oppositions,
So I pray that God will see us through,.
Hurried, hurried! the enemies had Carried my soul away.
The agony in me intertwine with my body, just like I was picking my lip,
My voice sounded with wondrous tenor,
Thus thee wind caught and carried my voice due echo and reflected ego,
Just love me little, love me long; is the burden of my song.

Hurry, hurry! my gentle soul is under pressure with tears trickling as it stria out in the blinking of my eyes,
Don't throw me or either dump me,
Don't strip me of my clothes and sit me by the fire alone;
Eyes cried for special soul, falling of soul in bond, clothes in frond and blood in warm veins.,
Fire and smoke steam, where as the hills and valleys shouted and stunt to kiss the sun.
But the sun so sharp seem to wander in the midst of all this serenity,
Her breast with full dressed and attractive ego, gather rosebuds of bird's in the sky like they always do,
It first aware me of my first coming relation, been unsettled and scattered like a bag of rice,
Just love me little, love me long; is the burden of my song.

Silence in me has just wiped my tears,
Hide when my voice is silent,
My mind scream to the top of my memories,
Memories or either imagine you of all the clean logical, of how I may yearning to have you,
Each time I close my eyes,
I clenched my fingers trying to wipe out my tears,
I see image of your pretty-full face,
Even though darkness have surrounded my vision,
It has broken down my will, Trampled my wishful heart,
Bruises and sad left me aching apart.
Just love me little, love me long; is the burden of my song.

In a world where enmities and dismay resides,
My dauntless spirit shall leave and survive,
Even the stain of mockery is strong, and never will ever succumb,
Struggled may have been a chronicle pain inside,
Even when I should had battled to won her heart, changing like a chameleon till I tired,
But for the sake of love, I believed to be never retired;
Just love me little, love me long; is the burden of my song.

~Abdulkareem-turay