that glass of the window had a few prints of my finger; that rose, still kept on the table silently waited for it's owner; my eyes looked out for someone who meant the world to me; but he never came back.
If I am the moon, you're my sun. People love me, admire me. They say that I remind them about whom they have truly loved. They dedicate me to the one they loved wholeheartedly. But you're my sun, you're the reason behind I shine.
a year ago, right on this date my heart throbbed with your touch; it's a year later, what I see is a dried rose still kept inside that old letter of yours.