It was me who cried during the night
Restless, alone in bed, pining for you,
Promises you make you do not keep,
The words you coin they do not weigh,
...
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Hope is the only carrier from rough phase and it is lost everything else is lost.
How am I to find your whereabouts
In the thick of things scattered about,
In the streets and narrow lanes of thoughts;
The words I had asked to cover you up
O Hope, you seem to have torn apart.
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Hope is the only carrier from rough phase and it is lost everything else is lost. How am I to find your whereabouts In the thick of things scattered about, In the streets and narrow lanes of thoughts; The words I had asked to cover you up O Hope, you seem to have torn apart.