If I begin to speak of Him..
I could speak for hours—
like a girl quietly in love,
like a poet who keeps writing
the same name
in every verse.
He stands on the field
with the calm of a storm
that has already learned
how to win against the wind.
His eyes—
they say more
than a thousand interviews ever could.
And that little mole on his cheek…
I adore it so much
that even words hesitate
before describing it.
There is a strange peace
in his voice—
the kind no stadium noise can drown,
the kind no music can imitate.
When he smiles,
it feels like a flower
that had almost forgotten spring
suddenly blooming again.
When he walks onto the pitch,
millions watch him play—
but I watch something else.
The quiet dignity
with which he carries himself.
The world may cheer
for his runs,
his centuries,
his victories.
But what I admire most
is the boy
behind the applause.
And if you ask me
what he truly is to me—
I would simply say this:
In a world that celebrates talent,
he carries something rarer—
a beautifully dignified soul
that shines far beyond
the scoreboard.
By~𝓳𝓲𝓪