when you're deep at your sleep hrsI get to know
where are you
as I am lost fighting the self
with an arsenal
known to me only
is that a process ever experienced
I search the books
find no reply
may be
my search is as exotic
as my oblivion of your find
and of mine
the mist of thoughts
the chilly winds
combine is good
for the heady hearts
so I search endless
another moment has to come
but time has become too jealous
I wait time to come
with its own whims
It wonders
no one can afford its being predecessor
how come
with your little thoughts
with lilies at my hands
wait for you
and time as well
Its fine with you
but stares at me
I construe
its jealous of my love
source : shipra.v

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