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Divinity Of Unconditional LoveLike a seashore
in high tide,
My memory has failed
To wash off
The bond between us
because even today,
Hidden in the vast terrain,
there remains a speck,
A grain of sand
even if only a latent desire,
A Speck, that is - You…
There it will remain
until my body
turns to dust,
And that little speck
Returns to its Origins.
It will bring to my mind
Laughter and glee
and when I am desolate,
It will teach me
what and where
I am wrong
It will soothe me
with its Silence.
I am its eternal devotee
No one can isolate me
from that speck.
If not your company,
I wont let this go.
If not your touch,
I wont let this fade.
If not your smile,
I wont let this die.
If not you,
This is mine…
Not meant to be Loved...How pure is love today;
As it continues to grow in this filth?
How profound is this feeling today;
That has been smothered with guilt?
She could spend her life in his void
She could await his words, till she died.
She would rest in peace, if she'd hear him say -
The words she longed to hear every day...
The words that sufficed her and did calm,
That said, he loved her, glorifying her charm.
But now she passes her days amongst cries,
Her beauty each day suffocates and dies...
"Yet more pitiable would be if she lived..."
He thought; as a tear down his handsome face dripped.
As she wanted to hear his mute words speak -
But couldn't heed his mourning heart that sang songs, so meek.
The Lover's SerenadeHer intense hazel eyes,
Looked deep into mine...
Her lips didnt budge,
Even as i touched...
Her dense long hair,
I held her in intense dispair...
I still hold her last breath,
Even today, in my heart's depth...
This is my serenade
I sing aloud, for my lovely maid...
In my song, she carries on to live
It is me, who then had been dead.
She is a Woman afterall...How rowdy can a woman be...
Can she live life all alone?
How brutal can her heart be...
Can she kill, the life of her own?
How stiff can her breast be...
Can she do without a heart?
How raging can her bro be...
Will she not have any blemish or scar?
How long, held that tear be...
Can she never be poignant at soul?
How wilful can her soul be...
Can nature itself demolish its course?
How tough can her persona be...
Will she never want to be shy?
How so ever espionage she be...
Can thoes eyes keep a lie?
She is a Woman after all...
She will love, live and then die...
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