Stone Of Ring Poem by Puloq Arafat

Light-rose stone smiled at heart,
And bought from the roadside stare.
The artist shrank the gold?
Never, it's never.
May be you wanted white-gold,
The artist had it?
How I could get the pure light-rosy stone?
Or the white-gold?
You fought against you-
Your nose couldn't smell the pure.
Trust is untying?
Or throwing loving allure?
The weeding was full of flowers-
Only for you to smell the fragrance-
The love more than the white-gold.