Rose at ma glance,the
beauty shone ma lenses,with
the sun in shota, of so many
panic of thy brightness in the
dept of nessdark....
Above the petals savoureth
thy aroma of beauty,dejavu
maketh thy present beneath
ma heart.....aroma of
sacroma in the peakest daize
of endma.,erraneth is thy
woosy doze of thy
worth,feeling loosen when
thy words woos ma brain,ma
parted part feeleth so soon
when the sput is cameth out
of it cokoon...
HER HINT HENCE
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