How can I tell the tale of my little heart?
Stuck snugly on the tip of my tongue, since long.
Strengthen me; further delay may hurt her heart.
Give me clues to confess, without prolonging.
Even though we are so close, yet feel detached,
as if inside the shrine, but far away from God.
Lips do not utter truth, it seems behind reach,
Eyes say we are known since ancient period.
Without thinking of any ifs and buts, any more,
With the right feeling I must confess my love.
To win the battle of life without torture,
by finding a graceful way of how to resolve.
“As love knows no limit to its endurance,”
I can win her heart with self assurance.
This poem is part of the Poetry Book The Saga of Romance