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Love makes the bittersweet
And love makes the king slave
And love makes the dead alive
So make me your prisoner
In the prison of your palms
And in the end, I will get free,

Encircle my cheeks
With your palms so perfectly
leaving a small window
Through which I will see
The sky in your eyes

Lock the gates of your hand
With million locks
And when you are dissolved in me
Then you desire to free me
In that moment of freedom
I will give you a kiss on each key

That freedom will bind me
In your earnest soul
Thinking why I was away from you
For such a long time
And now never to go away
From this sour-sweet mixture!

Written by
~~~Jawahar Gupta~~~