Fire of love, what state it brought me—don’t ask.
In insanity, where it caught me—don’t ask.

What peace adorned the beloved’s street—don’t ask.
In those dark nights, what defeat—don’t ask.

Umpteen secrets hide behind the veil—don’t ask.
On Judgment Day, what I’ll unveil—don’t ask.

Shariq Lone, why recite these songs of despair?
You discredited her, yet say—don’t ask.