It was an old oak room in Dehra
a room with a fireside
'simmering on a slow burning fire
in our dance within a burning room'
we get burned in our pleasures
as everything around us got burnt.
the wine glasses laid as it was
as we drank from our eyes
were we drunk it's hard to tell
for the love we had
and the lust we displayed
our bodies glowed from
the light of the fireside
as it rained outside
it rained in our hearts too.
time stood there
motionless it was
there was no past, present or future.
I stop here too
as the oak room in Dehra doesn't exist
it is but just a dream
a dream that I sometimes live...