I Took My Oath On Your Sweet Hand. Poem by AFFAQ NABI

And again, the summer winds would return.
With the love's legacy, mine yearn is just a slave.

To your time, with the regrets in your eyes, unworn
I do look into your aspirant eyes and behave.

Likewise, this bustle is from your sweet corn.
Lies never go straight along with the time.

Craving is such a thing; it clings with spirit.
When I do see marks of my blue past prime,

It echoes back, the burden of past dearest,
I paint by heart; may you read this plain rhyme?

O! time, you're free. I blame not you for devouring my prime.
Stay! don't fear or fly away, ah! beauty fairest,

And I took my oath on your---- sweet hand.
Therefore, I pray that you'll be on your swear stand.......