Duty mars the happiness.

Your eyes are cruelly seductive

But your status is obstructive

And my arms, too, are defective.

Spare me from being kept as captive.

Your lips are equally arresting

But duties are there demanding

And a few mouths are waiting.

Free me; I may not be wilting

You’re an angel for me to watch

But where is the time to keep watch,

Failing which someone may snatch.

Spare me and permit me to march.

Whose fault is that you are sexy?

Whose fault is that I am crazy?

Why must there be a deep valley?

I can’t stick, as I am bound by duty.

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