Old bridge under which river of tear flows : Prithviraj
Old bridge under which river of tear flows,
Knows the truth that no-one knows,
Some of them are dark, while others are mark,
In someone's life or a in bit of it.
It knows its tides better than those shipmen who rides,
Every ripple that it makes are some silent sighs,
Every wave it pushes are some memories which are too nice.
They are old friend of every moon-night,
That sometimes fight, sometimes do not let other go of its sight,
One is free and flowing, another is bounded but still growing.
There is a fear in the bridge,
If some splashes of tear touches it,
It may be broken and become a ridge.
Still onerous with its ties to keep.
©prskid
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