To love there are no reasons, n to love there are no rules,
But as it’s always seen, to love is a crime, Committed by fools,

The rituals of telling the three words are often easy to say, ...but,
The bonds of love, like the bonds of rotting paper neva do stay,

HE wetted HIS weary eyes n plucked his entangled hair,
When HE heard people sayin that “LOVE IS IN THE AIR,”

Cos wat happened wid HIM, was never EVER fair,
She left HIM in splinters of solitude & profound despair,

Was his heart humane ? or a hearth like a burning kiln of woods,
I saw him leaning on the lampposts, a man of changing moods,

A fading smile on his fainting face , spoke surely of days they spent in romance,
And his tottering on streets of gutters n boulders; of the days they used to dance.

The last time he smiled and laughed at was far and late,
Not on the events, not on joyous notes; but on his own fate.

The anguish and the misery, intensified; with every drop of tear that rolled,
Recited a thousand stories of faith and betrayal; never seen and never told,

[DRAGON]
CONTD...............