Souls' Prayer Poem by Ahatisham Alam

I search the liberation of the soul.
I search the path of the goal.
I search a fraction or the whole.
Search continues while years roll.

There is nothing to look behind.
There is nothing further to find.
Shakles of present are ready to bind.
Perhaps this is the problem of my mind.

O God! Let me melt to mould.
So that may become a crown of gold.
Don't release me from Thy hold.
Towards Thy grace, I always behold.