If i could write about the beauty of your eyes,
The coming age would call it lies
How would they know the existence of such a beautiful being,
Whose looks far exceed to angels in the sayings
The pages of my notebook shall turn yellow and gray,
But my love for thee in an eternity shall not degrade
I lost the count of coffees ive drank
And lost the count of sleepless nights thinking about you
I pick up a pen and o' it breaks,
For it doesnt possess the ability to comprehend such beauty into words
Alas, the day arrive when we shall be separated,
I curse my faith in the raging storm
With melancholy i trample onto the ground and look up in the sky,
as i count my last breath with the memories of thee