It Purifies Poem by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

Think of no perfection
But take corrective action
For own movement
And try to lament

Have recourse
For remorse
To be felt within
And bury as unseen

Regret is for self to address
Not to cry over it and reflect on face
The heavenly river is flowing
For curse to dip in and allowing

It purifies
And clarifies
Further course
To walk fresh of course

You are perfect human
So expect error as common
Pray with sincere regret
It shall not affect your state