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“I dreamt of paradise for long, Kept my patience intact, But when sourness hit the bong, I couldn't bear the fact. The sky has its limit, So do I, Hold back and sit, It's always been a bye. The touch of reality, Never touched you, It's been my fantasy, Waiting in the queue. Differences are many, Likenesses are few, Something so uncanny, Always existed in my hue. Deep into the vault, I will bury, This everlasting cult, Not in hurry,Not in fury.” — Bikash Chaurasiya
I dreamt of paradise for long,
Kept my patience intact,
But when sourness hit the bong,
I couldn't bear the fact.
The sky has its limit,
So do I,
Hold back and sit,
It's always been a bye.
The touch of reality,
Never touched you,
It's been my fantasy,
Waiting in the queue.
Differences are many,
Likenesses are few,
Something so uncanny,
Always existed in my hue.
Deep into the vault,
I will bury,
This everlasting cult,
Not in hurry,Not in fury.