What shall it ought to be called?
I hide your shades in my verses
Or you are read in each word
Or with you, the rhythm converses
Or I reach you frequently, for what my heart urges
Do I endeavour to evict your absence?
Roaming through the images symbolic
Or I get you closer, quashing the distance
Or I wander with you being hypnotic
Along the hills and woods, I create in my poesy alcoholic.
Do I put my heart via my rhymes?
Or I hear you singing in every lyric
When we rove, and mountains we climb
Or I evolve my love, woven in lines metric
Or I submit my devotion, for your onyx-eyes poetic
Might I get your touches I dreamed?
In your existence noticed everywhere
Or I might cherish what I received
Or I wish to hold, if you disappear
Or I make pleas my dear, for being there year by year.
