She is the beat to skip my heart,
making it to thwart, and breaking it apart.
Far she goes into the woods,
leaving me in my woes.
the colour unto my heart,
and the sound of its beat,
and there she goes, only away,
leaving my heart to beat, but soundless.
Man can adapt, and only adapt,
but cant be off the pain.
love is so subtle when near,
and very painful when away..
should not i care for her living from now?
the world would nt accept, but i could seldom stop that.
Her thoughts advanced far to be silhouetted,
also to bestow a discoloured twilight unto my life.
if i were the boat,
she was my oar
and on the stream of life,
my life yet goes without its oar.
a gurl, who were so dear,
and what ate me not to be near?
i wish, i were not the i, that i am,
and if not, i would have had the sky.
whatever the facts are, and whatever be the lies,
i wish to beleive, and i wish to wish only her happiness.
- Jithesh Lakshmanan Marar.