My dense black hairs are loosing ground,
Plenty of it shinning like a silver crown,
Grace to see this time in life,
A luck all I need to remain in sight;

The day looks near when I leave the plight,
Time will tell then the course of flight,
A harsh sunshine in the summers to come,
Or a snowy touch in the winter months;

Some of you will touch my noble soul,
Like a deep imprint on a rocky shore
It's all I carry, when I fly next
Leaving the sum in some safety chest;

Remind me oh God please plenty of time,
Starting with the first rays of morning shine,
whole day then goes like a silent stream,
Each drop soaked in some noble theme;

Yashpal 28/12/17