With No Praise Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

We met
And surrendered to fate
It was ill conceived relation
Which needs no mention

No where we smell fragrance
Even at once
It speaks of frustration
Well defined deterioration

Why at all to give name?
And claim
Pure name of love
When we actually don't believe!

You will be lost identity
Once for all for real humanity
You will be remembered a an coward
With no praise of word

Life is o leave behind
And find
New imprints
That always gives hint