She used to mirth , In the lucent topaz morning .
All her tears stirred with ululation of pangs , Used to incinerate in the heat of sunshine .
But when the sun sinks down the horizon , She used to engulf herself under the blanket of cold night .
The rest of world would sleep in calm , But she used to shed hurricanes of pearls just to prepare to once again smile next day . So what if it was a fake one ! So what if she has to get her tears burnt just to look like a happy one ! But getting burnt , Hurts , Isn't it ? .