jalakar aag dil me
zindagi barbaad karte hain
na hansate hain na rote hain
na kuch fariyaad karte hain
jalakar aag dil me

ummide hasrat o armaan
sab apna liye dil me
liye barbaadiya ab ranj o gam
aabaad karte hai
na hansate hain na rote hain
na kuch fariyaad karte hain
jalakar aag dil me

rahe majburiya apni
rahe barbaadiya apni
hum apne aashiya ko
aap hi barbaad karte hain
na hansate hain na rote hain
na kuch fariyaad karte hain
jalakar aag dil me

nahi apni koi manzil
kaha jaye kidhar jaye
sahara maut ka hai
maut ko apna karte hain
na hansate hain na rote hain
na kuch fariyaad karte hain
jalakar aag dil me

duniya se shikayat kaun kare
duniya se shikayat kaun kare
armaan bhara dil tut gaya
ye kaun aaya chupke chupke
khusiyon ke chaman ko loot gaya
duniya se shikayat kaun kare

ye kaisi bahaare hain dil me
ye kaisi bahaare hain dil me
aasha ke kamal murjhane lage
aasha ke kamal murjhane lage
wo daman bhi kya daaman hai
wo daman bhi kya daaman hai
jo haath me aakar chhut gaya
duniya se shikayat kaun kare

jalti hai chita jo dil me tere
aaho se laga ashqo se bujha
aaho se laga ashqo se bujha
jal jal ke mkohbbat kahti hai
jal jal ke mkohbbat kahti hai
dil toot gaya, dil toot gaya
dil toot gaya, hay toot gaya

In hearts, a fire we ignite,
And with it, life, we blight.
Neither laughter, nor a tear,
No complaints for us to hear.
In hearts, a fire we ignite.

Hopes and dreams, a cherished hoard,
Within our hearts, forever stored.
Embracing ruin, grief, and pain,
We nurture desolation's reign.
Neither laughter, nor a tear,
No complaints for us to hear.
In hearts, a fire we ignite.

Our compulsions, they remain,
Our destructions, a constant stain.
Our own abode, with our own hand,
We bring to ruin, this promised land.
Neither laughter, nor a tear,
No complaints for us to hear.
In hearts, a fire we ignite.

No destination we can claim,
Where to go, what is our aim?
Death, our solace, our embrace,
Death we hold, in time and space.
Neither laughter, nor a tear,
No complaints for us to hear.
In hearts, a fire we ignite.

From the world, to whom complain?
From the world, to whom complain?
A heart of dreams, shattered in twain,
Who crept in shadows, stealing gain?
Who stole the garden of our joy?
From the world, to whom complain?

What blooms are these, within the heart?
What blooms are these, torn far apart?
The lotus of hope, begins to fade,
The lotus of hope, a life betrayed.
What a veil, that slips away,
What a veil, that slips away,
That escapes our grasp, day by day.
From the world, to whom complain?

The pyre that burns within your breast,
With sighs you feed, with tears are blessed.
With sighs you feed, with tears are blessed.
Burning, love begins to cry,
Burning, love begins to cry,
The heart is broken, broken, nigh,
The heart is broken, alas, goodbye.