In the Name of Love

Dreaming through books, behind school walls.

But love came fast, like a summer flame,

A whisper, a smile—she took his name.

I was in class nine, too young to say,

That life is longer than one bold day.

She eloped with a heart full of fire,

To escape our home, not just desire.

He had no job, just borrowed pride,

Living on dreams his parents supplied.

But love made her blind, made her believe,

That promises spoken were hearts up the sleeve.

The first child came, a baby boy,

She held him close, a moment of joy.

He found a job, and hope began,

But truth soon shattered every plan.

Drugs in his veins, lies on his face,

His past with women, no hiding place.

Old flames, new girls, doors left ajar—

Each one a cut, each one a scar.

She cried in silence, raised her son,

Felt her world come all undone.

Still she stayed, still she prayed,

That love might heal what time betrayed.

Then came a daughter, small and sweet,

Another soul at her tired feet.

A third was born, her youngest girl,

The last bright light in a dimming world.

She scraped the coins, took loans unpaid,

With trembling hands, a home she made.

Built from hope and unpaid dues,

She dreamed of peace she'd never lose.

But he vanished, month on month,

No voice, no call, not even once.

Then came whispers, sharp as knives—

Of suits and rings and second wives.

He planned to wed another face,

With no remorse, no shame, no grace.

Our family stood, the silence broke,

A meeting called, the fire woke.

He came, and for a breath, was tame,

But peace with him was never the same.

The violence came with deeper dread—

An iron rod, a bleeding head.

Jailed for pain too sharp to hide,

But justice doesn't fill what's died.

She’d carried years of endless weight,

Now stood alone at sorrow's gate.

Unable to bear what broke her soul,

She made a choice to take control.

She left the house, her heart torn wide,

Two children left by the father's side.

Her youngest girl, she held her near,

And walked away from all her fear.

She left the past, but not the scars—

Her love still reaching through the bars.

She’s not a tale of just regret,

But of a fire not silenced yet.

She loved too hard, she hoped too long,

But in her leaving, she proved she's strong.

So if you ask of courage rare,

Of broken wings that still repair—

Look at her, beyond the pain,

A woman who will rise again.