Breath

The breath is from birth to before death
Despite, demise is sure, people have unfaith.
Lots of them believe on, lots of wealth
Few are beneath the shades, of divine truth.

The rack of wealth is useless, at the last
Even though lots of break, the chain of caste.
The peace is kidnapped, from the walking road
It's hard to the needy hearts, to carry the heavy load.

The emission of smoke, hampers the fresh breath
None calls you, after the profound death.
The date is limit within short breath
Hence, serve more to store lots of faith.

©® Bishnu Prasad Bhattarai,Nepal