With the days gone by,
as our love grows weak;
With my soul left tattered,
while the reaper rides to reap;
As your heart moves away,
with every breath you take,
my life seeps out,
on her bloodied scythe and rake.
Covering you so tight,
I see your soul weep,
with my selfish act of holding on,
to your heart which I keep
and so I let u go,
and let my-self die,
for I rather let it end
than to see you wither,
than to see you cry.
By: Viraj Belgaonkar
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