There Is کے بول

There’s a warmness to your touch And a cleanness to your air There’s a bitterness to your tongue.. you can’t taste it There’s a cold region In the backspace of your mind There’s an empty spine in your journal I see nothing wrong this way There is something wrong you say I feel right in every place You talk less and less each day There’s a false embrace You often give There’s a fickle touch… I can feel it Do you often think In the backspace of your mind That you couldn’t be… does it bother you? I see nothing wrong this way There is something wrong you say I feel right in every place You talk less and less each day