It's the last flicker that calls out,
A commanding voice, a tightening clout.
Is this it? He asks to himself.
The end of a long, tiresome journey.
He's lost count of the times he's erred,
From all of God's sons he's differed.
His life, bought by wads of money
Not enough to change even one waif's destiny.
His luxuries neatly concealed his wrinkles,
But not the scars of misdoings and regrets.
Temples he built in golden splendour,
Never cared for the huts of poor.
Is this what he had set out to do?
Is this what he had achieved?
He remembers the human that he used to be.
Repenting in present, is he the same being?
So many mistakes, so many crimes,
One last breath is all the time.
He has to search for the right answers,
And has to return, caring and clever
