Pure Trade Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

Am going down with gloom on face
That leaves nothing to trace
I am pushed deep and deep
And unable to keep

It is my weakness
That keeps on with tough phase
There is no end to my desire
And seek and aspire more

No doubt, it is good thing
But to ask for endless is something
Unheard and unjustified
As you shall l never be satisfied

We have our own dense forest
That test
Endurance
And patience

More you venture in
Less are chances of getting out
It is directionless crusade
And amounts as pure trade