A Reply To You

Find a comfortable place for your pen,
When the nights hide,
Your hard toils bride,
Light up the den,
Walk away more,
Away from pain,
Over again,
As time will yore,
Cry it out when
Your eyes get heavy and cloudy with rain.

Its always obscure to cry in the rain,
Most often when
Memories yore,
Time and again,
To hide the pain
And see things more,
Like a bright den,
To walk your bride
Don’t stop to hide
The beauty you brood in a mundane pen.


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