I read many books, wrote many lines,
Why do I face this drought when I try writing about you?
Do I write a sonnet or an allegory,
How foolish of me to think that emotions have a format?
I let my thoughts express and they dont raise passion neither do they raise any emotion,they take me to a land of serenity.
I broke many hearts, made many unfulfilled promises,for I never believed two souls can live together without deception.
I never accepted you to be real as it is too good to be real, but how can I be dreaming for years together.
Merging into one and yet to be different without a lie is too good to be called love.
