Being are not far off, when our faces shall be dry as an autumn trees, Dwelling of evergreen scenes in our eyes concealed in the hazy breeze; There shall be tsunami sound of winds, one’s own voice be a stranger, Ours gathering decidedly be symbol of shadows and lusterless amber; Confront with known people akin maimed emotions, alone graveyard, Memorizing love of special ones once occupying love spread shipyard; Persons were kind, tender with selfless veneration and not a hot flame, Followed by blossom, shall glow on your lips, disconcerting in blame; With one tear falling in your lap, discloser of our festering raw secret, Our failed wishes, staggering and lost heavens in wandering banquet; A single tear which fell with abysmal sameness mourning in yours lap, Shall remind you of false, my part luck, getting beyblade filled of slap; Anytime the tear shall renovate into star, gripped as memoir your fist, There be no timeline to remember your “Adorer” by unfasten wrist; Vinnie love never dies, decidedly, sincerity, affection and admire dies; Once flourish and blossom akin chandelier now wrapped in fireflies; Hardly shall “Virtuous” find a worship of selfless “Zaffar” anywhere, Batool maintains crusade as of fairy, everlasting divinity everywhere. |
LONELY DUSK WET EYES
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