Why is it so,
That i always go back
To the days when i had his back.
When i had his arms tightly wrapped
Around me in which i napped.
To the days
When i was his only dream and reality;
And his words perhaps held some finality.
When he was all mine
And i all his.
But now see, befallen me has the curse.
My nights are all hallucinational
For the things that will never happen
Earlier it was me with his voice
At morning at Four,
And now it is me alone
With some memories core.
If only i could get back him
And once again sing him a hymn.
Now there is a chain on his door,
But his picture in my heart
Will always be bore .
-p.
