Prisoners of your thoughts

Neither can I cry Nor i make others 
love is something i like to spare

Its your pleasure when you give
Its their love when they receive 

For Love is not whatever you give
it is what you should give is Love

Parched land would love some water 
A parched soul some comfort

comfort is not what can you give
It is what you should give is comfort 

Soul or land crack up left untended
For they fail when no one crack them up

Souls evolve from being sad
Tragedy is when none care

Souls are birds let them fly
Bound by experiences they cry

prisoners of your thoughts they are not
Let it fly let it fly let it fly

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