Love

There are 

Many patches 

Of cloud, 

Still I don't get wet. 

There exists 

No empty space 

In heart 

To store love. 

I don't know 

With whom 

I am talking, 

I don't know 

With whom 

I am sauntering. 

The way 

Love broke me, 

I don't find 

Any respite. 

Yes, 

I don't know 

With whom 

I am talking, 

I don't know 

With whom 

I am sauntering. 

Eyes cry, 

Dropping silent tears, 

lips become 

Chapped with sadness,

Enervated becomes 

My longing to live. 

Yes, 

There are 

Many patches 

Of cloud, 

Still, I don't get wet, 

There exists 

No empty space 

In heart 

To store love.