Fidelity, compassion, faith abiding,

Alloy gently matures in sorrow burning.

Neo-victims of faith do not know modes of wailing.

Let some tear of alloy, teach them plaintive lays.

The attempt to shed form, living amidst world,

Is the bold step of potentate soul towards home.

Not many like this candy covered with salt.

Only blessed can patiently wait for hidden sweet.

Soul then opens basket full of compassion.

She enjoys like a dumb, who can not explain.

Service of downtrodden becomes her play.

Pain of the world, she desires to carry.

Ways of enjoyment here are made up of  pain.

Soul can wait for eons, weeping in dispassion.

Meeting the lord is her utmost desire and end.

But shaking the hand is in God's hand...