I Stay, Yet I Rise

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I read your storms before your skies turned gray, I knew your silence had too much to say. Your voice would tremble, mine would quietly bend, I wore my heart like armor, lover and friend. I stayed through shadows, guessed your hidden pain, Held pieces of you through thunder and rain. Yet when my oceans rose and pulled me apart, You stood like distance, not close to my heart. Tell me, what kind of love clocks out at night? Leaves at midnight and calls that feeling right? How do you whisper “I care” then disappear, When the one who loves you is drowning in fear? I know, I know you care in ways you can, You stayed till two, till three, tried to understand. But love is not counted in rare borrowed hours, It is presence in weakness, not petals and flowers. And maybe, yes, I hid tears in my chest, Pretended my breaking deserved little rest. Maybe I never screamed, “Please, don’t you go,” Expected your heart to simply know. But darling, if I call you mine, even friend, I’d sit through the nig...
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Cherish the good heart...

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Sometimes a good heart is like a quiet candle in a loud room.
It burns gently, gives warmth, and asks for nothing in return.
But people often notice fireworks more than candles. 
Not because the candle is less beautiful, but because the world has grown used to noise, not sincerity.

A pure heart gives, listens, forgives, and stays.
And because it stays, people begin to believe it will always stay. So they test it. They stretch it.
Sometimes they break pieces of it… thinking it will still glow the same. And the good heart wonders: If I give so much love, why does no one hold it carefully?
But the truth is, many people do not recognize the value of a gentle soul until they have already wounded it.

A good heart wants to be cherished not because it is weak, but because love, by its nature, longs to be received.
A river does not flow only to itself, it flows to reach the ocean. 🌊

But one day, the pure heart learns something deeper.
Not through advice.
Not through books.
But through silence… disappointment… and healing. 
One day it realizes:
The sun does not ask the sky to appreciate its light.
The rose does not beg the garden to notice its fragrance. 🥀
They simply exist, and that is enough.
And the good heart slowly understands:
"I was never incomplete. I was simply giving my light to people who preferred darkness."

From that day, the heart still remains kind,
still remains soft, but it no longer begs to be chosen.
Because it has finally discovered something powerful:
✨ A pure heart was never meant to chase love.
✨ It was meant to become a place where love begins. 
And when a good heart truly learns this… 
The world may still be the same, but the heart is finally free. 🕊️🤍
~AmbivertSyed.

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