Somehow,
Despite the urge to speak with you,
I deceive you by claiming
That the wind and rain are just perfect
For penning down some verses.
Do not mock me.
Even if you burst into laughter,
I shall deem it as the music of nature.
Harbor no hostility.
All your stratagems,
I shall take as your affections towards me.
My destiny is bifurcated:
Prior to encountering you
And subsequent to our meeting.
You alleviated my melancholy,
Only to bestow upon me sorrow.
The fleeting joy between melancholy and sorrow
Has depleted all the reservoirs of passion in my life.
I yearn to consume some wine,
To render my soul weightless,
So as to be carried away by the wind.
Yet the instant I envision myself
Ultimately being a passerby to you,
I feel as though I have become
A stranger to the entire world.
Though the wind is fierce,
It skirts around my soul.
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