A day comes, a day goes,
With happiness or sorrows,
A question arises in my mind,
What is our life and of what kind?
Is it to develop? Or is it to study?
Is it to be carefree or is it to worry?
What is it?
A puzzle or a game?
What is to gain?
Name or Fame?
Mysterious it is!
Is the only answer I find,
By going through world-
Round and round,
Uncountable things are to gain and do,
Uncountable things are enjoy to,
Still one question arises in my mind,
Who made the world so mysterious of kind!