Are we really cut off free?
Distant shores captured you.
Do you remember my serenades for you?
My only source to meeting you right now is
You is my blue compositions.
Albeit the million fishes,
My hand cannot throw
The hook into the streams.
Where did we go wrong?
Fingers point pointers.
Are we not fighters?
Did we not revel in one another
As the roots adore the ground?
There are million routes for us to meet.
Did I shear them off?
Or was it your hands?
But my dear I want to tell
The truth as bold as it is.
I and you are not supposed to abhor.
If kisses made us to hate, then I return
them.
Wipe your mouth and call my name.
Will we not smile at one another when we
meet?
No, we cannot bite our lips dear.
Are our bonds terminated.
