Frantic Search

Needs he a plate full of gold But what he sees after a frantic search Instead of a mine he just finds A well in a far way land In a caterpillar steps he closes in And descents down to quench his thirst The cool glass of water gives him peace In mind and in soul But people say still he is in discomfort In the world of matter and finance Rushes back he unpleasant And here and there he is found digging The soil is not stale or rotten Nor is the womb of the earth is barren It is only his way of searching And his choosing of place is wrong There how he dares to find gold Where is water this world holds? He may bitterly curse or utter harsh words Or like a defeated fox he may laugh But this world is not a wrong place The wrong lies tight in his self The wind is kind enough here The light of the sun is too generous You cannot blame the rain either When it falls, it drenches equally all So grow at your own will Or perish by your own choice Except few exception This world has nothing to do.