Got life can pass while doing love #Bewafa Shayari

Got life

Life can pass,
While doing love
Sorrow can kick-off,
While doing love
I’ll be careful currently,
While doing love
Forget the recent reminiscences,
While doing love
Will live a replacement life,
While doing lust
We have got friends,
While doing affection
Which has become my company,
While doing love
Changed it,
He lived my life,
While doing love
We were lost somewhere,
Friends since ages.
Found the correct path currently, whereas doing love.

Learn to love

Wish someone
It is a very different matter.
In the heart of love,
Getting off is a big deal.
But people have loved,
Made an exhibition.
Today than this tomorrow
Having done it.

Wish has ever been shown
A thing cannot happen
Who does this,
They cannot affect.
Affection is a bond,
Which has to be fulfilled from the heart.
If love is to be understood,
So read Radha Krishna,
To the characters of Meera Krishna.
The true meaning of affection,
You will understand.

People who wish,
Understand the show.
Live their desert,
It is over.
That’s why despite all this,
Choking alone lives by choking.
Your own life,
Hell is what makes it.

This world is very beautiful,
Learn to live by it.
People of affection,
You learn to live in the heart.
Complete your life,
Will change one day.
You will be immortal
In the pages of history.

What to write more

Had to write something a little deeper,
What to write more than affection,
Had to write a little bit,
What to write more than pain.

Had to write a little bit,
What should I write more than my eyes,
I had to write something like myself,
What to write more than tears.

Had to write something fragrant,
What should I write more than the character,
Listen, I want to write life now,
What should I write more than you?

We write something

Shabnam writes on the eyelids,
When writing the sorrow of the eyes.
Geet ghazal all false things,
He writes ointment on wounds.

I am upset with your fellow,
Writes seasons of desire.
They have some more part,
Write himself a little less.

When lonely nights cry,
Hamadan writes memories.
Why is the world knocking,
Is this what we write?

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