Spring In the End

Tough my days, Rough my nights, But I shall not demand, Chirping of birds going home in the evening, Neither the cold and placid Breeze in the morning, With all the odds in my life for this very day, I want spring in the end, I shall remain here, Not resting but grappling with the maze of my subconscious, But I hope at the verge of lassitude when I sleep It will take me to the end of the alley at the door of cosmic quietude, Hope is the fuel of the day so I hope for and say, I want spring in the end, I shall not envy freedom of butterfly, Nor her colors, I miss them in my life, I don’t want warmth of your hand today, But I shall have faith in the destiny, That one day I will melt and fuse with you, And it will be spring in the end, We will fasten our soul with feathers of bird, We’ll fly in sky with bird-like spirit, And we shall remain in the air forever, I wonder that there will be a day, I will be holding you tight by waistline, Your head resting on my chest, We will melt with the sun cooling off in evening, Birds will join us and cherish our love, With their chirping calming down, We, lovey-dovey will be lost in romanticism, That little cold breeze will make you hold my hand, And you will look up smilingly at me, That orange-redness of sky will marry up with your lips, Your eyes will manifest the madness of the evening, With all my love in one kiss on your forehead, I will hold you little tighter than before and will make you realize, my love, that it is the spring, But it is not the end, It is just one of those all evenings We want to spend with each other when in the days of spring.