Verse 1 I saw her by the well at ṣ ṣabāḥ (الصباح — the morning), Her veil caught the rīḥ (ريح — wind) like a prayer. Two tribes with a wound older than mountains, And me with a qalb (قلب — heart) I couldn’t spare. I kept my distance like the law of the desert, A man who knows the lines he can’t cross. But her shadow stayed stitched to my memory, And every step since has felt like loss. ________________________________________ Chorus So I walked out into the ṣ ṣaḥrā’ (الصحراء — the desert), Where the dunes keep secrets better than men. I gave my sorrow to the rīḥ (ريح — wind) of the valley, And begged the layl (ليل — night) to carry it again. If I can’t go to her, let me change my shape, Let me leave this human ache behind. Turn me loose as a faras wāḥid (فرس واحد — lone stallion), Running wild across the edge of time. ________________________________________ Verse 2 The desert took the weight from my shoulders, The najma (نجمة — star) burned holes through the dark. I whispered her name to the wandering wind, And it answered back like a lonesome spark. No shame, no blame, just the old feud standing, A wall no man of honor breaks through. So I traded my voice for hooves and thunder, And the layl (ليل — night) remade me in something true. ________________________________________ Chorus So I ran out into the ṣ ṣaḥrā’, Where the dunes keep secrets better than men. I gave my sorrow to the rīḥ of the valley, And begged the layl to carry it again. If I can’t go to her, let me change my shape, Let me leave that human ache behind. Turn me loose as a faras wāḥid, Running wild across the edge of time. ________________________________________ Bridge No reins, no tribe, no boundary lines, Just the moon on my back like a witness. I carry her memory in every stride, A fire that refuses forgiveness. And if she ever stands on the far ridge watching, May she know the stallion is the man she knew. Still ḥanīn (حنين — longing), still wafā’ (وفاء — loyal), still bound by karāma (كرامة — dignity), Still running because he can’t run to you. ________________________________________ Final Chorus So I live out in the ṣ ṣaḥrā’, Where the dunes keep secrets better than men. I gave my sorrow to the rīḥ of the valley, And it carries her name again and again. If I can’t go to her, let me stay this way, Let me leave that human ache behind. A roaming faras wāḥid on the endless desert, Running wild across the edge of time.