...travelling through the grief of hEaRt

She never made dramatic gestures

nor any solemn lectures;

my talks were with her potent eyes

nd so wasn't able to broach any lies

the adorable gift for me was her time,

to me it worth more than a mime ;

being with her I heard de music of chime

but now, de pain is worst than a dime

those were de days

I hate de night dreams;

but now,

I love them atleast to hav her gleams

When walking on the street sides

I search for her footsteps besides,

but once I fail to find her

it was her name dat I slur

wat she

made in my life was just jaunts

but it was,

her images dat always haunts

consolable is,

the pain when hit by a dart

but not,

my travel through de grief of heart