In the villa of moonlight,
past the doors of the fragrant mist,
on the floor of a starlit sky,
where fairies play the rainbow sitar,
lies the golden notebook of my soul,
treasured with scribblings on each page,
which are nothing but the glances you made to me!
Each glance of her, you treasure as rare.
ReplyDeleteEach glance of 'her', you treasure as rare.
Flipping through the pages of your soul, I see myself gasping for breath
Uday