We didn’t have much—
Just whispers and will,
A few brave steps
Over silence and still.
You, heavy with the promise of life,
Me, carrying the ache of old strife.

We left behind the world’s applause,
No witnesses, no loud hurrahs.
Just the two of us, hand in hand,
Building home out of borrowed land.

The house was hollow, echoes wide,
Two floors high, but we stayed inside
That little corner—where love was born,
Among quiet nights and every dawn.

No couch to sink in, no bed to share,
Just a floor, a blanket, and you there.
A stove that warmed more than our meals,
A water jug beside our feels.
A single PC, a screen we stared—
But never once felt unprepared.

Because I was with you—
Not a voice in wires, not a dream at night.
I was with you—
Where morning meets the softest light.
We made love where echoes sing,
We laughed about almost everything.

Our wealth? The rhythm of your breath,
The tiny kicks beneath your chest.
Our child, asleep beneath your ribs,
Unknowing she was part of this.

No palace, no gold, no riches wide—
But you were real, and by my side.
I didn’t care for what we lacked,
Because every moment, love fought back.

So let them talk, let silence shout—
We built a world inside that drought.
From broken pasts and lonesome parts,
We made a life from honest hearts.

And I would do it all again,
In every town, in sun or rain.
For in that house so bare and true,
I had my world—
I had you.