Talk to the sadness of your garden.
Give the old tree a young blossom.
The moon on sky is like dead statement.
Go to the top and make it fine poetry.
The fire of yours, has spread and its wild.
Eats me as fire, consuming woodland at
night.
If you leave me I will bite the dust.
Do this before leaving, make me insane.
This is how much "you", important to me
"You" with me, makes me more "Humane".

(D. Z. Koh e Noor)