The Volume Of Life Poem by Ayaz Warith

He gave us the volume of life
Days are well bound like pages
None knows the basic title
But bound up in reading it
And the fair basic principles
With tests on every step
And they cheat here openly
In the classroom of the world
Where no one is caught right away
For they are given a chance
As long as they are alive.

One day the class will end
With its last bell and its clang
We will pour out in multitude
With our bags on droopy shoulders
Rising dust from our stampede
The dust of final days!
With our heavy bags of deeds
On our exhausted shoulders
To the place of final result
Where we grin to see gaiety
And grimace to see gloom
And yes that is the end of the session
Standing in a vast ground
With our results in hands
O God, I pine for Your mercy!
I want my result in my right hand.