Just the thought of missing you,
the fear of loosing you;
my heart has become a shallow pool of tear,
where every droplet is made of thoughts of fear.

Every droplet makes a ripple,
every droplet fills the shore,
silence of me echoes in my heart,
it reminds me of you,
little by little,
more by more.

Is my love a dream,
which will never come true;
is my love the winter sun,
which will never shine through.

Is it a dove crying,
not of a bruised wing;
or just another fairy tale,
with not so happy ending.

If love is the name,
of what I thought I did;
if affair is same,
of what I was in mid;
god bless you,
for now I am free from pain,
as from you,
I got rid.

Thanks to free me,
before I forget to dream,
before death of my desire;
before my heart bleed to death,
before my spirits take a last breath,
on the eternal bed of pyre.