The ones they crave for,
They the lamps of your eyes,
Writing I am such words.
It could not be treated,
Pain - sweet pain in my heart,
It could not be ceased,
Magic - wonderful magic in your eyes,
Today I bring such a gift for you,
Yes, I write such words.
Keep them in your heart,
From eyes they may not slip,
My poems are so delicate,
Lest they not get ignored by you,
I will keep writing these poems,
Yes, I write such words.
Until they not touch your soul,
My poems will just wander,
They will just remain flowers,
Longing for butterflies you give to me,
Will keep singing them for you,
Yes, I write such words.
The ones they crave for,
They the lamps of your eyes,
Writing I am such words.
My HP Poem #733
©Atul Kaushal