And endless melancholy,
A sadistic symphony.
There is beauty,
But, in our far off bounties.
This is our song, I'm dedicating it to us.
Like line spectrum there are holes in it;
And there is much more complexity and fuss.
This is my love, all for you;
And this life, devoid of hue;
I devote it to you.
The drums beat, chords are struck
Fingers run above the harmonium.
Some lingering flute produces charisma
And see to ponder over, my tears have come.
But, my ears hear only one voice;
Our tranquil tachycardia's noise.
And though you're miles away,
My heart still hears you say;
Hey!
This is our song, I'm dedicating it to us;
Like our breath it is continuous.
And we'll live through all the complexity and fuss.
This is my love, all for you;
And this life, devoid of hue,
I devote it you.
I continue adding more love to our song;
But somehow, the pieces end up being all wrong.
But, it was melodious, may not be too long;
And though one sided, it is our song.
A blank note,
An empty verse,
A song with no rehearsal.
A forbidden sin provided with no reversal.
Yeah! This is our song, I'm dedicating it to us.
Like line spectrum there are holes in it;
And there is much more complexity and fuss.
This is my love, all for you;
And this life, devoid of hue;
I devote it to you.
