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Life in the tavern



Poem...


life in the tavern

akanksha


In this tavern of life, the pain is honey, the tears are squeaking, the only one in which your memories are left,


Of the first glimpse, of the first meeting, till now there is a glimpse in the eyes, the only one in which your memories are left,


In honey laughter in honey touch, the softness of those words is still fresh in the mind, it seems like a holy abode, it seems like the name of Radha of Mohan, the fragrance of those breaths is still left in Vrindavan of the mind, the one in which yours will rise Memories remain.....

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