Someone whom I loved very much, like my own life That acquaintance too met me like a stranger He who knew the darkness will grow He too will hide in a cloud like the moonlight As my thirst grew, my hand was abandoned That politeness gives the false notion of love Never did I think to thank gypsy for him He too will torment me like everyone else It is a grief that he too could not be mine And I accepted that agony like pleasure
Posted on: Sun, 04 Aug 2013 21:09:09 +0000
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