No, not the place where I come back to,
Somewhere I haven’t been to.
Someplace where breathing isn’t choking,
Where living means residing in your eyes,
That blue colour of your eyes brighter than the sky,
Shining like everything sparkly like drinking wine.
Where drunkenness doesn’t bother my doze,
where you snoozing, is the only lullaby I could hear.
I held many hands but your is the fluffiest,
Like the comfortable pillow which does exist.
As these running tears don’t stop in your arms,
But flows like water falling from the top.
Every drop of it has a sound that hits my soul,
Yet looking at your smile I shirked it all.
A livable home which is cosy and warm.
Fire burning soul like that we burn in winter snow,
You are my home that is comfortable to my soul.