Sometimes, we play with Eternal fire!
Some souls get scorched; some succumb to the burns;
Yet, some escape to play with blaze higher,
Until the day comes for their funeral urns.
Each time we sin, ’tis God who us rescues;
How grateful to the Maker, we must be!
When sin’s voltage turns high, lapses heart’s fuse;
The soul suffers now graceless malady.
The God of compassion ignores us not;
He gives His chances to repent for sins;
He does not send us to the ‘blazing-pot’;
He loves all souls that He created, since.
Man tests God’s mercy, infinite for long;
Can’t turn deaf ears to his ‘sin-drowning’ song.
9-10-2002
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem