The Man Who Loved Too Much
Every breeze that blows
brings your scent to me;
Every bird that sings
calls out your name to me;
Every dream that appears
brings your face to me;
Every glance at your face
has left its trace with me.
I am yours, I am yours,
whether near or far;
Your grief is mine, all mine,
wherever you are.
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1 comment:
Hey Bro,
How is everything going? are you still in Delhi?
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