What’s Left Of You

I am the mysterious sovereign of futile lands… I am the sultan of hearts consumed by longing… I am the exile of yearnings hungering for peace… I am the language of desolation… I am the representation of the helpless, the companion of the lost, the final wish of those awaiting death, the night reflecting the longing for mornings of those who cannot reunite, and the wingless messenger named love… Who am I? I am never the one to say ‘I am’ without meaning, easily spoken yet metaphorically striking. Who am I? I am the bearer of centuries-old yearnings. I carry the burdens of a lifetime of ruin. I am the language of lamentation at the end of every deadlock. Who am I? I am the rain for parched hearts, the sighs of lands lost in heedlessness. I am the complaint of the ruined and weary. I am what the accused ones are haunted by. Who am I? Without knowing me, you can never understand me… Now listen… I will tell you about the real me.