High Promises Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

High promises

For fair name of love
We force others to believe
In our madness
For bearing gloom on face

What people have to do?
Even if it is true!
You are denined lust access
So now you are in stress

Love is not what you define
Or try to turn hell into heaven
As if you are only sufferer
And rest are silent listener

"My hair has not turned gray" in sun light
It has exposed to so much of experience
So never underestimate sympathizer
Who shall later on turn as your sooth sayer

Love has indomitable place
In all the cases
It has basic for supreme sacrifice
With pattern of high promises