We drew our lines in shifting sands,
Marked borders on a solemn map,
Defined our nations, hand in hand,
Yet love’s path knows no such trap.
In the highlands where eagles soar,
Where Tibet kisses Mongolia’s brow,
There, you find the heart’s true lore,
A blended race in beauty’s vow.
Faces merge, a tapestry,
Of cultures fused, of histories twined,
A testament to unity,
To love that no line can confine.
Where languages in whispers meet,
And traditions share a common space,
Boundaries blur beneath our feet,
And eyes reflect a shared embrace.
We sought to sever with our charts,
To claim, divide, to fence, and bar,
Yet love unites what power parts,
For hearts don’t heed a border’s scar.
In twilight where the dusk is drawn,
No line divides the stars above,
In shadows cast by morning’s dawn,
We see the truth: there is but love.
So let us honor what we find,
In those who walk the borderlands,
For in their veins, a bridge designed,
To link us all with gentle hands.
We drew our lines in shifting sands,
But love’s great tide, it washes clean,
And shows that in our clasping hands,
No line can mar what love has seen.
0 Comments