Vastness of creation fell short and emptiness of life invited your thoughts
The night lamp flickered to life and blankness of sheet caught my eye
Occupation of day proved fruitless, deprivation of satisfaction ate my sleepiness
A tool of inscription was in my hand but an empty mind was unable to comprehend
Like a hungry soul looks for recipes my loneliness went hunting for your memories
In darkness of time my vision searched for light and found your image resting by my side
The desire to fill this emptiness faded away as I wanted your impression to stay
As the bare paper was hungry for words my drained emotions wanted you near
I had nothing to make me high, guess living without you was just not right
Your longing for me kept on my beat, and I just wrote Thanks on that sheet
I could inscribe no longer as the wetness of my eye blurred my prospect
Wasn't writing but feeling became my act as the emptiness fell short of this subject
Nothing I have done which is parallel to your presence
Thanking you for that felt so insignificant

The patience you had can never be compared
to the illogical explanation of the practicality of the situation
The sorrow you carry could never be undertaken
By a mere act to show appreciation
The amount to drops released from your eye
Can drown out all my explanations
A note of thanks is so pity in front of your contribution
But all I can say is thanks for being my tressure
The night lamp flickered to life and blankness of sheet caught my eye
Occupation of day proved fruitless, deprivation of satisfaction ate my sleepiness
A tool of inscription was in my hand but an empty mind was unable to comprehend
Like a hungry soul looks for recipes my loneliness went hunting for your memories
In darkness of time my vision searched for light and found your image resting by my side
The desire to fill this emptiness faded away as I wanted your impression to stay
As the bare paper was hungry for words my drained emotions wanted you near
I had nothing to make me high, guess living without you was just not right
Your longing for me kept on my beat, and I just wrote Thanks on that sheet
I could inscribe no longer as the wetness of my eye blurred my prospect
Wasn't writing but feeling became my act as the emptiness fell short of this subject
Nothing I have done which is parallel to your presence
Thanking you for that felt so insignificant

The patience you had can never be compared
to the illogical explanation of the practicality of the situation
The sorrow you carry could never be undertaken
By a mere act to show appreciation
The amount to drops released from your eye
Can drown out all my explanations
A note of thanks is so pity in front of your contribution
But all I can say is thanks for being my tressure
No comments:
Post a Comment