The smallest of worms
Gnawing at the dead leaves
And the greatest of men
Rocking in their majestic chairs
Do not differ
In His ken.
But the mankind
Fails to comprehend
It is a tiny speck
On this tiny earth
With all its joy and mirth
In the creation’s deck.
Men scurry around
Moving in falsehood
Trumpeting that they
“can turn the world upside down
And wear the crown to play the masters”.
But Man is of power devoid
Twisted, dragged and doomed
Like a tree fall
With the slightest blow
From the wind above;
His “Pride goes before a fall.”
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