It is only a tiny rosebud
A flower of God's design...

I am wounded bird,
Who's wound can never be cured...

We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight...

There is no definition of love
Some people say it is like a dove...

Oh God! It is you who made me born
I am one of your beings Indeed...

What ever you call it luck,destiny or fortune.
But meeting you was sure one of three...

All seems still and quiet within...
a pensive state of collaboration...

You are beautiful
I watched you as you walk on by...