- - - - + Love +- - -

The song of heart - no 2 - Love- The morning is painful and I wake up with loads in my heart. The night was sleeplessand dreams like twilight Spill on my being, pain of severance. The tidal waves that floated me from thee Will cleave a way to reach thee. The pain that my intellection is bearing In the calmness of this morning is the dalliance of my stupid mind. The motility of my mind and tardiness of my Thought into nothingness I am outcasted. Now aforlorn self, sucked by my own hastiness the silence is lost, The life that nurtures a bud to bloom, The dewdrop that quenchesthe thirst of the nightis lost. Now a long waiting for a bud to burst and the fragrance that propagates the message of departure. In this uselessness of indolence love seems to sprout for thy grace ineffable.