Moon was made
A canvas to
Paint a dream.
Sun was tamed
To find my way
To heaven.
Stars were just
Another excuse,
The reason is same.
My desires always
Take off from
Depth of the oceans..
Destination is her.
Some fantasies
Crash land on
Barren swamps..
Points of my despair.
They eventually
Become poems.
It has rained here
Anyway.
She must have
Opened her window
And kissed the winds
Of Punjab.
Monsoons are her
Grace in my place.
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