We live in the world where souls wallow in naught,
And where destinies are easily being caught.
Many sail their voyages with no compass,
Leading them to a pasture with no grass.
A lot of them remained there thinking it was the arid season,
But none of them understood the prime reason.
My heart melted at seeing souls dying on the voyage of uncertainty,
Which increased the number of dreams sailing to the land of mortality.
The land of mortality where prospects die like the hungry shark,
Which inconsequentially made their minds become concealed in the dark.
From which gate would the light comes from and swallow the night?
How would these strayed souls find their ways back into the light?
Only if their tears could flow to the abode of the earthly sages,
Who would help them out of the void stages.
Thereby, making their lives have a newly written prose,
And helping them forever swim in the rivers of purpose.
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