My soul is burning from the flame,
That was ignited from your charm.
I am now blazing from the warmth of your fervour soul;
My ashes are wafting away,
Away from your arm.

You are untouchable,
Like the land so torrid.
I might incarcerate hundred times to quench that land,
And metamorphose the ever parched ocean of sand -
Into an alive Greenwood.

You are invisible like the pain of a soul,
I quest to fathom the feel.
But my nescient heart could not brace the woe,
As it is impalpable like you;
But I am still delirious to feel thou.

If I could caress you,
I shall touch the wind as well.
But my ignoble frame could not trace yours.
You are running miles away,
Leaving a lone yellow rose to sway.

Like the dew drop on a petal,
You shed purity.
You are so sacred,
That every hand of sin burns from your blaze.
You are so idyllic,
That even the utopia pariels with you.
You are the paragon of sacrosanct rectitude,
And not a lone soul could besmirch thou.