Logic is a sword,
sharp and precise,
cutting through illusions,
a blade made of ice.
But love —
oh, love my gentle shield,
unfurls like a soft petal,
a shield against the chill,
wrapping my soul in warmth
In this quiet struggle,
where reason seeks its place,
I find my path,
not in the sharpness
of the blade,
but in the light of love,
where all illusions fade.
So, let the mind engage,
let thoughts weave and bend,
for in the heart’s deep silence,
it is love I choose, my friend.
— Fida Hussain
The eternal dicotomy between Logic and Love. Your poem praises Love. Your feelings exude from your words. I can feel it! Thank you for such a rich experience!