For her, I write in blood, and rhyme this verse
In this madhouse of a city, in a drunken farce.
Her beautiful eyes, her lustful smile
Is what I wish to see in this lifetime, for a while.
This gentle heart of mine, yearns for her sight
As I fight for a piece of bread, in this poverty of a plight.
I wait for her, 'cause my love for her is true
And all I long to hear, is that- she loves me too.
Her beauty so defined, that a normal poem can't describe
No matter how much similies, metaphors or imageries I try to scribe.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem