The rain does not have a purpose,
Before it reaches the land,
Its service starts,
Only after it touches the ground.
Her world didn\'t function,
Before she met him,
It all began,
Only after she joined him.
For someone who was not afraid,
Of climbing skies,
And picking up the lightning,
Hands are trembling,
To pick the flower.
God does not talk directly,
The faith does not disappear vainly,
They have never talked,
Nor heard from each other,
But their love,
Does not fade.