Bury The Hatchet.

      Bury The Hatchet.

==================

Deep grows, love's chasm;

When steep goes its spasm.
To woo and then to rue,

Ruins one without a clue.

The mismatches of life are a midway hump,

Making the romantic wheel break and bump.

A half- made medley  of  mortar, rough and rife,

Never keeps the base fit, to beat  the  daily strife.

‘True love never breaks’ may be a tantalizing maxim.

‘No love withstands serial pressures’, is a fact so grim.

Looking for rhyme and reason among the haunting ghosts,

Leaves one pining for patch up dreams and trendy toasts.

When boiling tempers move to a mad, breaking point,

The broken crumbs of a wafer biscuit course fail to flaunt.

If being together, breathes the art of living for each other,

Living together looks up ever, as a proud peacock’s feather.

There is a lot here for each one, to forget and forgive,

Than to remember  the rust, for the ego’s  itching drive.

Each day, fresh  rhythms of soothing lifestyle will bloom,

As  the hatchets are buried for the light of the full moon.

                                                                     P.Chandrasekaran.