Venting ire does not mean its fire

Your presence drives me into a place of no return

The absence makes the life feel as if its sun burn

Upholding your memoir is like an innocence born

Left me red-faced, I’m board on a train of no return

You chose the best possible ways

I searched you in every sun rays

Tide flown in every minute, failed to find bays

In my absence, you made the best possible flays

Venting ire does not mean its fire

Pouring satire does not mean its admire

Heart on hire does not mean its entire  

Venting ire does not mean its fire…

Venting ire does not mean its fire…