Though I am a poor, flawed, and distressed wanderer, your ruin even angels could not make prosperous.

This profound couplet speaks to the overwhelming impact of the beloved's existence or ruin. The Shayar acknowledges his own flaws and poverty, yet the magnitude of the beloved's destruction is so immense that even angels, who are beings of divine peace, cannot find stability or settle there. It suggests a beauty or tragedy so powerful it transcends even celestial order.