You both are not ready to give me up
And I myself cannot choose one of you
Such kind of a doctored democracy here is practiced
And schizophrenically both of you attach to it,
But one thing your never understand
If I am your mother who to you are my children
They are your sons and daughters if I am your bride
If you want me to leave least love for you in my heart
Stop torture, show honor and respect to my wish
More pain you inflict upon as medicine for my disease
Let alone recovering day by day I become sick
The day is not far, if this going on
You will burn your hand and I am dead.