Monday, 12 September 2016


This picture gives me memories of past
That I carry always across travelling to present living

You sent a message in in-box of Facebook,
You explained difference between you and me,
Hurting my heart, mind and body,
But love is not a presence of dogma, it is sense.
It is not only a word; also a migration in loving nutshell
Literally it is felt proudly
Into the mind of people, invites a cord of
Individual feelings, even if you stay thousands miles
Away, it makes everyone warrior after first kiss,
That makes us smaller to greater to feel proud.
You cannot break away from that great touching
Mood of holding neck to feel body warm,
Splitting from its feeling is like trilling sense of love.
May be I am at lapse of my understanding you,
You are woman, you are creator, you are Desdemona.
You are my heaven, I do never do abuse you.  
I always walk in chatting through a single line,
With performing quality of love,
I never want to see you as my rival.
Yet you make distance from me,
As if I am a stranger, as if you finished shopping
In a BIGBAZAR and finished your journey,
And I am searching you in that blue light zone of
Mall, and my hands are empty.
Being keener in my first love, I am still spent time
For you, dear. I am free for your love.
Please read these lines.
Words have power to live together here.

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