She wrote him a letter,
In a language, he didn't knew.
He kept the letter,
In a place, she didn't knew.

He never asked her about the letter,
Cause he knew he will not reply.
She wrote him the letter,
Cause she never wanted a reply.

He knew it was a love letter,
It was the love he didn't knew.
She knew it was love,
It was him she didn't knew.

So she wrote him a love letter,
In the language, he didn't knew

walking miles after miles,
still, no end was in the sight,
I was resting somewhere alone
was resting in the middle of nowhere
you took me by surprise
when you asked me to walk some more
a few steps on the road with you
you told me about the end of the road
about the dawn and the night
about the darkness and the light
then I saw the end, the home
coming back to home with you,
replying to the unasked question,
love feels like coming back to home
after a long walk in the dark
coming back to home to you.