In true love age distance or caste has no meaning----
Admire 

In the rainy drops, she trembles as like a flower, 
Alike, darling bud; in the rhythm of the shower, 
She can't murmur, a moment without me.

In true love, age, distance or caste has no meaning, 
It's an old chronic; thus don't lay in doubt.
A school of thought; that believe's in these silly things.

She is still oblivious, as how the occult is intervening.
It's not something inborn; but endowed 
The melancholy is, she is not  leaning,

Facts of logic or arithmetic; yet she is uncrowned
Jolie fille ! take wit to work, death gives not the clink.
Or tiding "I'm coming " like a sound .....

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