on wither of desire, winds caress, my dreams, haunting night by night,
one that stands still,
is before my eyes,
and another that,
passes with silence,
i wait for long,
may be a resolve of habit, ,
or something different,
but i am for one,
that never ends,
and never comes,
and never seen,
in dissapointments.
Rafique Farooqi
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dissapointments/
