My Woman,

A paragon of beauty,

A soldier without a sword,

The world sees her as a weak vessel yet, I see her as my priceless jewel,

An infallible shield in my darkest hours,

The one who reads meaning to my silence,

For my woman; I will prostrate kissing her feet as soft as a feather pillow,

The only one who washes away my sorrows as the waters will wash off filth.

Her smile; so bright that it can restore sight to the blind,

Even in her anger, she stays level headed.

No soul is as gentle as my woman,

No one as supportive as her,

She is the god I see,

My woman,

My woman,

Should forever be revered.