my soul,
lonely,
a drifter,
aloof
dwindling scent of a jasmine petal
drowned in the sound of abyss
burning tongue,
taste of fire
your soul,
companion,
a guide,
a goal
blossoming color of a rose
floating on the voices of nightingales
sweet tongue,
taste of honey
night has fallen
resting my head on your chest
calm of an early morning lake
Copyright © 2007 by giv arya