Cool The Air Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

Cool the air

We never took it seriously
We bled profusely
It was sheer lies
We had only to belie

I don't when did it start
But it was certainly deceptive art
With intention of hurting
And level scoring tactics

We are point of no return
It has taken an ugly turn
I fear it may end in deadlock
We shall run out of stock

I shall seek once more try
With intense cry
I resent his behavior
Can he give little respect and honor?

I have nowhere to go
Yes I may not blow
My temper to the despair
But pour the water to cool the air