I think, when life will be on waning ends,

When death will try to lure me,

What those words would be,

That summarises this life-story.

What will be the story?

Immaculate childhood or a thoughtless youth,

Or a dejected, sad, pathetic life,

Will death be an end or a new beginning?

When old age shall come,

When God of death would be eager to meet,

Then will I be sitting terrified in a dark room,

Alone and Praying for mercy?

Or will that meeting be grateful,

Will I say goodbye to this world smiling?

Would the world pray for my life?

Will you ask in your prayers, two more moments for me.

At the threshold of youth, now,

As much as I have understood life,

It is only time threaded by fleeting moments,

Moments after moments passing before my eyes.

I wish to synchronise my rhythm with its pace,

Yet Time remains untouched by my concerns,

I keep on chasing it, worried and bewildered,

She pays no heed to my relentless pursuit.

Who knows what fuels this pace,

The fuel that never wears out ever,

When tired I sit to rest for a while,

She teases me and moves faster.

Now I have decided,

I would no longer care for this race,

Because I am now aware of my defeat,

As no one known so far has ever won.

Though still I would be the one following,

But now there is no hurry,

My eyes are now fixated on her beauty,

No more strife, she darling, and I be lover.

Now who cares for the world,

I alone am the world now,

I am now, now I am time,

As an expression of time.