If I die today, if asks Supreme Lord,

What have you done in all these living years?
I would simply answer the Supreme Lord,
I have learnt to tell the tale of my days.

Every time I told, it just got better.
Every page of my story I have read.
I have not left a page as a reader.
I have read and unread, read and unread.

I’ve tried every way to fit into the puzzle.
Now that I know that I am so unrest,
That reminds me of a missing piece.
From the puzzle, the missing piece isn’t left

But in me and that piece is peace.
OM shanti (peace), Om shanti, OM shanti.

Shall I compare thee to Tinker Bell?

Thou art more charming and more mystical,

Is thy soul eternal that my chest can dwell?

I cherish thee as if something magical.

Thou sipp’st thy black coffee a touch so light,

I feel charmed as if fairy dust were blown.

Thy smile beacons light in my darkest night

An everlasting grace in my heart is sown.

When gazing at thy photo, heartstrings pull,

 An ache, a void, as if a piece is gone,

 An infinite feeling, so deep and full,

A longing that persists from dusk till dawn.

Thou art a wonder, more than words can tell,

A beauty far surpassing Tinker Bell.

Shall I compare you to a winter’s tale?

You are more exquisite and more serene.

Your heavenly presence do shake my hale.

That fills the emptiness of my barren.

Your beauty is like the snow in my yard.

That baffles me when you ruffle your hair.

And gentle blow of cold breeze is released,

That fuels my heart and ignites a flare.

Yet flare makes you shine yet you do not melt.

It parches my heart, but I must be meek.

Like a winter’s tale, a magic is spelt.

When you apply the dark cherry lipstick.

So, long as you smile and shine like white pearl,

So long lives mankind, and this shields your charm.