My chilly winter hand,with the blisters, seeking the touch.
wrapped across my bosom,
oh! is this what they call,
the lady in no man's land ?
About the land they praise,
they say, I invade it.
but the quest which taunt me tight...
am I or was I ?
He said, the look is deceptive,
as well as the heart of mine.
but the woman heart ain't know,
they say, what deceptive mean.
With all my heart, I loved him.
I was the sun and he, the shone.
And today, the sun is there...
shining though a bit gloomy
but alone.......
