Hardik Vaidya (26 Dec 1969, yet to kick the bucket. / Mahuva, Gujarat, India.)

You made me so wealthy,
All the banks in the world,
Are not rich enough.
To accept them as collateral,
To lend me this earth.
Jewels priceless,
That your svelte silhouette found in me,
Each hand picked,
Each kissed and laid,
By your gentle self,
Stones, yet fragrant,
Some, pink, some blue,
Some red like the blood in lovers veins,
All cut, none polished,
Gloss of your lips
Toil of my lonely bed sheet twists,
Made them shine in oceans wist,
The vast blue,
The shine of moon,
The moaning of the forgotten moore,
The bankers are clue less,
They can't value our loot.
Let's loot again,
Let's go and plunder,
You explore me,
I ravage you.