Rare

One day I shall see this world no more
Forever my eyelids will close.
Next day as usual the night will end
And the day will dawn.
In usual business
The time will pass in every home
Keeping this in mind
Ardently I look at this world
Whatever I see doesn’t seem useless
Everything seems rare—
Rare is the smallest place
Rare is the meanest soul.
Grant me O Lord
Whatever I got
Whatever I didn’t
Things I didn’t want
Thinking them as useless things.