Seas of bottomless blames separates us now,
Words of intimacy sinks without effort,
The unbridged waters keep us apart,
And we glance without a tinge of love.
The towering anxiety hurls my thoughts,
Abrupt hues of blue fill my color pots,
I shall paint your face with my purest hands,
But seldom shall it turn into a masterpiece.
When each ship keeps moving into the port,
I look for your eventual answer,
Often I am left behind with a noisy group
Passing by, and my hands left unheld.