Disgraced Love

It's disgraceful, the way you call it love, The look you give me when It's not my face you hope to look at. Petals, you name them after me, scatter them on the ground. Be honest, was it my name, do you know for a fact? These sonnets you write for me, Never was I the muse. Perhaps you just like sonnets too much. Perhaps someone else was your prose. It's disgraceful, the way you call it love. People don't have a heart anymore, once they give it away, Is that why my gift was an empty box? Yeh ishq ki tauheen hai, Hum iss tarah na dekha karo. Jo phool humare naam nahi kar sakte, Hum par is tarah faika na karo. Agar yeh lafz likhte nhi humare liye, To aise muft mein mushayra na karo, Yeh ishq ki tauheen hai, Kisi aur ka dil humein diya na karo.