By Dhruv Mehta
Sing about me, i am dying of thirst; This well, nearby;
Holds plenty to suffice, but can't hear
my yearning voice;
My longing resides in your vocals, thereby sing for me;
Like a bird desperate to speak, when lost its feathers;
Let out yourself with the voice;
One that goes on singing;
And shall meet my pursuit;
So i perhaps not burnt into ashes.
By Dhruv Mehta
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