when breeze in hands of delicacy holds me tightly,
I dance withh swiftness, i cry softly....
My soul, my brain is under influence of those divine hands,
Those held me high,n made me wear a floral wrist band....
Make me melt like a snow,
That washes away its dirt by its water,
And let me flow in uncontrolled desire,
With eloquency like warmth of innocent fire......
Fill it upto its brim, the pitcher of my heart is starving,
Light shines thru the face of East and the soul of west is burning.....
Hiramalik
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