Two men were fighting, So I put a ring around them, And bet on them As people paid To see who would win – I made a fortune.
You have your life, I have mine, Why mess things up? Let us be Where we are. We are seamless now, We might seem less then, When we tie our threads, And end up in a knot. When hearts collide, No one survives, Don’t you
You aren’t so close to me That I start whispering secrets In your ears, These secrets are afraid of distance, And if you were near I would be talking to your eyes More than to your ears, I might slip them down your lips, And
Maybe I read too much In my wilted time, And crumble when I don’t find You, in my pages. Red eyes scour you, Like you were written In there somewhere By my favourite author. Your mere mention Thrills me so, That every face Is the one
You take out the best in me Then play with it for hours, Fumble me in your fingertips, Poke me with your fun, Hold me so tight That I fear not slipping, But being toyed with For too long. I am written in dust, But
So I walk into this room and it is painted in black. All the four walls, written in pitch darkness. For a second, I felt as if I have stepped into the night. But there were no stars or moon inside. Just a charcoal story
I don’t rule out your possibility, never have. All the things they say about fate, gives me butterflies knowing how mysteriously I have been picked up and placed on a foreign land as if I were some part of a big plan, that I had