The Eve oF Evening

Now the sun descends in the silent abysm,

And the birds starts chirping rhytm ;

Oh no, its evening again,

And the rest of the day is all but vain.

It was the first day in college when it all began ,

Time flows but sentiments remain ;

She inflicted wounds , she caused lovely pain ,

The Cupid’s arrow was very well aimed .

The flow of seperation burns –

with no mercy, no care,

The ‘burns’ remain till its morning

till you again are there;

But who consoles ,but who care,

Its only ur picture that is aware.

When ur picture is my view ,

I feel as if I a close to u;

And the evening is not dull,

As it used to.

Ur parted lips oozes sweet aroma ,

Which keeps my breath continue ;

And my eyes can see nothing else ,

But you , but you , but you.

Isn’t it is a miracle

--someone living without a heart,

For I don’t have one,

Its stolen by you.

But with whom I am talking to ,

Its ur picture and not you ;

The only wish that I cherish now is

If it could be you, If it could be you

If it could be you.