The untameable wind triggers an impression of your life,
With each gust, I am reminded of your poise,
An undeniable force that taunted legions of thoughts.
Fire was within your yearning, as water was to your eyes,
How lucky you were, you fell far from the tree,
And when you did fall, it was to your knees.
You chose your time on a precious night,
How we all danced whilst you remained in the dark.
Through circumstance, I gained your sting and bite.
Unyieldingly within, your light slowly withers,
My clement heart, remains unforgiven,
From that day, I left you by your castle on two rivers.
Note: 'Daya' is the Kurdish word for 'mother'.