Avoiding write of the clutching colours,
Trying to read the message of catching odours,
I walk leaving myself on my fate,
Life is a lane of love where I have a date,
I am sure at the end of this street
Someone with a bouquet I shall meet.
So what if there’s none on the other side!
Whatever is there my love is ready to abide,
And if there is none I shall cease to exist,
Who will confess that his love was a mist?

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