Temple Of Innocence
Every night I sleep and left behind,
by Mirza Beg
Every morn I wake up with a mind,
Fresh and newer, like the sunrise,
Of a new sweet morn, and with eyes,
Full of new dreams to walk my way,
One more time, as I born every day,
For yet so many words I have left to say,
So many songs to hear, sing and play.
So many times to spend with loneliness,
And so many nights to pass sleepless,
With sky so dark, moon so high,
And stars so bright, before I die.
This is my joy, this is my soul's temple,
And my joy is simple, sweet and ample.