Sometimes though, no reason though, moist are my eyes,
Gloomy and grey, with moon away, perhaps like the skies.
I am aware; no one shall come, so late and at such time,
I still await with the door open, a glass of water, and a lime.
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For reasons inexplicable, our eyes wells up sometimes.We keep our doors open for the lovely song that we heard somewhere in our journey.An excellent piece of poem.
Lovely thoughts, Abhilaaj. Sometimes, for no apparent reason, my eyes tear up too.
Wow I love the poem...