The question of life ends,
The glow that cathes the eye,
The whisper,
She seems silent to many,
But to a few she talks.
Gazing at the beauty,
The glamour that changed i heart,
Perhaps scenary,
Yet it is but one,
One who shall find meaning in stupidity.
To you she is the sun,
To me the lover,
That keeps my heart occupied.
No comments:
Post a Comment