There is a way I believe!
in every sort of misalignment of thoughts.
Yet amidst all slogging!
my eyes remain still on your heavenly adore.
Tis thus define love!
I suppose in your Godly language woven wool.
I fancy it a pride of mine!
you n me n an architecture of glass-door heaven.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem