When I prepare to,
Aim an arrow at arrogant you,
Then my inner being shouts,
What stupid you do with your sweetheart?
Its her you treated as the best,
Its she whom you worshipest,
Then how can you shot?
How can you hurt?
Disturbed by loneliness and discontentment
When in some unmindful moment
Fingers press the trigger unintentionally,
The arrow that goes out hits me harder than you practically.
I know these are unforgivable faults,
Irreconcilable are those arrow hits,
Tell me what can I do,
Tell me where can I go.
Leaving the field means making the love lose,
And retreating from my own vows,
You know that I can least afford,
That your lover can never withstand.
Aim an arrow at arrogant you,
Then my inner being shouts,
What stupid you do with your sweetheart?
Its her you treated as the best,
Its she whom you worshipest,
Then how can you shot?
How can you hurt?
Disturbed by loneliness and discontentment
When in some unmindful moment
Fingers press the trigger unintentionally,
The arrow that goes out hits me harder than you practically.
I know these are unforgivable faults,
Irreconcilable are those arrow hits,
Tell me what can I do,
Tell me where can I go.
Leaving the field means making the love lose,
And retreating from my own vows,
You know that I can least afford,
That your lover can never withstand.
i could never imagine you hurtful. so much of your poetry speaks loudly of love, compassion, and forgiveness.
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