Even the night’s plight she listens to,
If only she could find somebody,
Riding on a similar path of sufferings…

Imagining the butterflies,
She craves to feel like a flower,
She once did.

Even the hot cup of tea,
No longer soothes her…
For the power to her heart,
Long gone to somebody far..

Sitting on a couch with memories abound,
She thinks of the melodies she once heard..
Smelling no warmth that neared her once,
She feels colder on the path led with true love…

Residing on the invisible thorns of life,
Even the doormat looks comfy to her…
Looking at the moon on a jet black night,
She fears to be merely a star that never found her way to the moon…