On the coming of your memory.

The thunderstorms of your memories:

Quiver the ground of my heart virtually;

It never set me free to live independently,

From the cage, where I am living for centuries.

I neither of can hide and escape:

Myself from its flow ;

Which is running under-mine!

It all the time makes me feel very low.

My soul gets writhe in the longing of the past days

But my heart and brain don't want mercy pays:

Somehow, I know I have nothing certainly,

But the memories for spending my life lonely.

Composed by Sami Khan