It Must Be Her

It must be the way she look tenderly at me,
Yearning for love which seem so hard to get.
It must be those sorrowful eyes that captivates my heart,
That glistering tear epitomize the preciousness of a diamond.


It must be the way she laugh out loud,
Her smile so highly contagious that makes me feel proud.
The passion for life glows like an undying flame,
Shone so brightly that it lightens up the dusky night


It must be the way she grips me tight,
Vunerable, frail to all minor terror.
That cries seem to plead to be spared,
From humiliation of last present dignity bared.


It must be her genuine innocence,
How much she can sucuumb to him to make him stay.
A fool who is bright yet so gull
Her devotion is an action which expressed more than words


Look of despair on her face suggest it all,
The nighmares that she have been through
Those endless nights she have to survive
Haunted and linger on her delicate soft features


Her desire to be set free, away from all burdensome demands which drowns her
Her anxiety and insecurities concealed, persona an armor which protects her well
It must be the way she craves for love
A doubtful intense feeling that sweeps her off



It must be her who makes me laugh and cry
It must be her who made me realize
LOVE should be cherished by all men souls
Shouldn't be taken for granted
Shouldn't be treated lightly
It must be her whom I have hurt
A sin so deadly that it can kill
It must be her
It must be her
Her, , Her
To her, whom I have loved

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Rudyard Kipling

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