I normally don't do this.
But when I think about you my thoughts
Break into a poetry.
I stare at the ceilings constantly and
wonder what's more difficult to decipher
what you've scribble on my heart or what
that decrepit cracked ceilings of my room
which tells the story of past?
Every night world collapse on my doorstep
To ask how can I believe on an unseen love?
But in my head I keep a psychic image of
Yours and your gaze never fails to smolder
my soul.
Every time I see the flames of your love comes
With a new spark and I fail to extinguish the
flames of my thumping heart.
I hate the fact that I don't have to put much
Efforts to show you how much I'm...