The Unbuilt Half Of Mine

Can you peel off my loneliness
leaving the flame; the heat
you cannot.
If you could
I would not have been Goloka;
something else I would be.
My tear drops would be pearls
I would have kept some
at your doorstep and
some in the pocket
telling to walk on it
often in pleasure
and often in sorrow.
Throw the other for Chemi,Miti,Balia;
the characters of my poems.No.
No ,no,it is impossible.
I am a half built temple
the other half is lovelier than this;
death is the tip
but the other half
still not built
is the cause my sorrow and worries.