Those words never said, leave my heart in discontent.
The mind shall miss out one a phenomenon remarkably beautiful.
It oversees anger from the starvation of those exact words.
Though never said, but is it the mind who will be starved of the beauty? Or shall it be the heart. The true worshiper of love.
I love you...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem