One touch and the light will glow
With my hand in the winter's bough
I ran so far that now I can't ignore
The touch of mine on the winter's bough
All the roses have bloomed
by the muddy road
The sun hid his face
And kept crying in sorrow
A girl in red dress laced with black,
Was sitting with her hands folded,
And eyelids exposed.
Her lips were the reason of rose's softness,
After breaking apart, am reborn
As people never groan
Am reborn, into a new personality
Where people can't doubt my ability
Is there any relation between a pen and a poet?
Only a pen knows,
Not the poet.