Who stalled my play when the end was yet to be acknowledged,
My toys got scattered and my mate suddenly called it a day.
The home that I started to build around my heart had to be destroyed
Like in a heavy tremor, a pot of hope gets destroyed into shards of clay.
Shall I wait to meet you my friend again or it will be a desire in vain,
My return to where I had started will take time and it is about to rain.
Pangs of heart have no language or They would have surely conveyed to you,
If I get to arrange my play again someday, like a miracle hope I’ll see you.