It Kills Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

I have felt your love
And blindly believed
That it is backed by sanctity
Blessed by creator and an almighty

Not all people shall have joyful day
Asia has all the way
She dances before my eyes
Even if I win with desperate try

I am not man with intelligent back ground
But have always found
The brightness in eyes dark
I pick the thread and start

I may not be her favorite
But it brings me delight
A substance of great satisfaction
To bring in sacredness of relation

What do I long for?
And feel sore
Yes it is her non-communication skill
That makes me feel weak and kills