Sunday, 22 March 2015

My lady

You are yet to be described my lady.
There is so much I wish to say.
Is it the cascading tresses, is it the pouting lips.
I could go on weaving your external beauty.
Yet I choose your haunting thirst.
The more I read you,
The more I sense you.
A passion so contagious that penetrates my brilliance.

There is so much I wish to say my lady.
But your calligraphic verses keep me in a trance.
Where my incompleteness gets absorbed in your intensity.
And I momentarily escape.

It's not you my lady whom I seek.
Its your thoughts that has overwhelmed me.
Forgive me if I sin with you in fantasy.
After all I am just a man.
Be there my dear lady.
Just be there.
Lemme just admire you even from a distance.

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