Our meeting wasn’t meant to be
Had I lived on here waiting I’d be
I lived on your word knowing it a lie
Had I believed I’d have died happily
Someone ask my heart about your arrow half-drawn
Why does the hurt linger if it pierced through me?
Whom should I tell of the terror of the night of grief
If it happened just once what harm would death do me?
This flair for mystical flights Ghalib!
If you weren’t so fond of wine a saint you’d be