Monsoons come and monsoons go,
Winds blow,bleed and row,
hopes fruit falls but rises again,
but alls a blunder if love fails
time and again.
Milton, knew Tagore felt ,
All's nothing if love is missing.
Be it a woman ,tree,book or paper
love flames the deepest belonging.
For a poet,writter,philosopher
Love cracks the loosy shivers
but one thing I feel lives through it all
in darkness or in light true love never pines.
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