With No Lament Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

With no lament

The poet is no different
When presents
Woes or happiness
He speaks it on the face

What are we after all?
Keen to fall
For all kind of temptations
And still remain in relation

It is beauty
That we forget almighty too
Take vow not to repeat
But again resort to same and feel fit

So it is strange type feeling
That is spoken to all as being
No different from others
Words may find no error

So it is soul
That gives call
With hurt sentiments
To shed it with no lament