Red nights,

Full of passion,

Hazel-eyed mystique,

Wards off my soul's blues,

In the spiritual realm,

Always with me,

Perhaps she did not like it here,

And departed years ago.

I tried to join her,

But Hades didn't welcome me,

It was as if the death angel,

Was mocking me at every step.

Then red wine,

Washed away my red red nights,

Yet her mystique,

Refused to disappear.

Now I have learned to survive,

And all it takes,

Is the memory of a red song,

Which I used to sing for her.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Composed on Sunday, June the 8th, in Karachi, Pakistan.

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