The lips of Amritsar, have been waiting since long.
To be kissed by Lahore, the love long lost.
Both want to embrace, and they are not alone.
The border is dotted with lovers pining since the dawn.
The want to caress the face of you,
Be I a man or a woman but fallen for you,
Oozes through the desert Balkans, the vales of frozen snows,
The cold steel wires pierce in their chests, the moment they come close,
For a simple act of worship, to kiss, to cuddle, to make a home plain and simple.
This is not for India, the borders are across all Media.
All she wants is a seed of his soul,
All they want is a space they call home,
To raise a child which has a real identity,
A small insignificant dot in the glory of posterity.
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