In this world of beautiful things,

Those are fortunate who came as human beings,

While having power to do everything;

Many don’t do anything;

Rather, at end, being converted to a useless thing.

With most having desire to become rich fast;

Still can’t take along, a single penny at least,

Being fortune to have most powerful brains;

In this living treatise being exclusive and vast;

Still in rains of despair and in vain.

Good deeds never ends, they remain forever;

Life is too small to be sad and be in pain;

Perfection is to be practised again and again;

Extending nobility and fame, that will ruin never.

Composed by:-
Shivam Jha