Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date.
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimmed;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature’s changing course untrimmed.
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st;
Nor shall death brag thou wand’rest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st,
    So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
    So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

Dil tu kyun ro raha hai
Jo hona tha, woh ** chuka hai

Dil tu kyun ro raha hai
Jo khona tha, woh tu kho chuka hai

Ek kona hai bas ab tera
Wahin pe raat, wahin tere din
Wahin har saans ko aankhon se gin

Jo hona tha, woh ** chuka hai
Dil tu aakhir kyun ro raha hai

Tera tha khula asmaan
Teri hi thi naadi, teri vaadiyaan
Tera hi toh tha yeh jahaan
Tujhka tujhse hi tha imtihaan

Aur tu na jaane kya khoj raha tha
Tu kahin toh pahunch raha tha

Ek kona hai bas ab tera
Wahin ab teri har arz sunsaan
Wahin ab dafan har karz, har toofaan

Khud ko khud se hi bhool raha hai
Ab toh veerane mein bhi tu doob raha hai
Tab se ab tak khud se hi jhoojh raha hai

Kya ab bas ek kona hi hai tera?
Dekh, wahan ek phool khila hai
Tere aansuon se seencha
Woh tujhse pooch raha hai —
Tu kyun ro raha hai?

Jo hona tha, woh ** chuka hai
Jo khona tha, woh kho chuka hai

Ab bhi hai asmaan
Ab bhi woh naadi, woh vaadiyaan
Ab bhi hai yeh jahaan
Tera hi tujhse imtihaan

Tu kya soch raha hai
Sunn zara murshid kya bol raha hai
Kya bas ab ek kona hi hai tera?
Tujhko toh tera Khuda khoj raha hai

Ja, main hoon yahan —
Teri zameer, tera armaan
Teri kami, tera gunah
Tera nazeer, teri panah

Ja, main hoon yahan
Main hoon yahan.

This phrase, so often repeated as if it were a bluff
And I used to think these words were worn
But now I see that it can’t be said enough
Even if I repeated it since the day that I was born

I would move a mountain just for you to see me
I would crater this world as I start shrieking
How much I love the energy you bring
Every word I hear
Is like music to my ears

And as the ground crumbles below you
I would rip my own heart out if it meant that I could show you
That I would do anything to ensure that I could know you

You may never read this and perhaps it is our destiny
But that feeling in my heart, never to subside
I’d tear through fate itself
Just to call you mine

I’m getting greys
at an alarming rate,
I already pulled at my hair.
“It’s normal” he says
I swear just to debate,
cause he doesn’t seem to care.

And I’m bleeding through
my scar tissued skin,
the layers only grew
still I find a way in.

I’m getting greys
at an alarming rate,
I’ll be down to the last strand.
Check or fold the plays,
the cards aren’t that great
I’ll be down the my last hand.

And I’m bleeding through
my thick nice sweater.
It’s a shame as it’s new
and we’re reaching the cold weather.
It will stain the soft fabric
I may just grab the bleach,
but I always made it a habit
to always keep it just out of reach.

I’m getting greys
at an alarming rate
pretty soon I’ll be bald.
On hot coals she stays,
though she shifts her weight
and watches her soles scald.

And I’m bleeding through
my clogged and blocked pores,
and the remaining few
are becoming septic sores.
I’ll shed another layer
of a non-protective bubble,
and my hair will continue to get greyer,
I think I’m now in some trouble.

My broken heart burns
Memories infiltrating
The hardest to heal

I have no reason why,
The selfish, in vain, take hold
Of a hope that cannot die,
It’s really getting old

But letting go doesn’t seem to be
In the cards, i can’t play it
On the tip of a thought,
An answer, i can’t say it

And the limits imposed
by the lack of understanding
Makes acceptance the course
And of course, I’m not accepting

Struggling in vain, there’s no other way
Can i at least believe they know i remember.
Nothing i could do
but to Watch, and to pray
Until returning our bodies to clay

I try too hard somehow, without ever even trying
Fruitless is the hand offering semblance to the dying
The greatest minds can't find the cure
What offer could i proffer here
That wouldn't requisite a dejected tear...

In vain, or in vanity
Selfishness or insanity?
No control over desire to
Defeat this infirmity

Should be left to the learned
It's hard to trust the tried.
I couldn’t agree more
On nights like tonight.