God Is The Real Owner

'My Master, the peace of mind For me, where shall I find? I am, day by day, restless With my mind peace less.' A king went all the way To the forest one day And before his kind master, Knelt down with this prayer. 'Oh king, give up your throne In favour of your only son And peace you'll find here In this forest, with no fear.' 'Oh master, my son Is too young to own The burden of my throne If he's left to rule alone.' His master then said 'The power you shed Why not I take over From this very hour? ' 'You feel yourself free And sit under this tree, With nothing to worry, While I rule your country.' With the king's consent At that very moment The master took control Of the kingdom's rule. The king wanted to leave Elsewhere outside to live But wasn't allowed to go As his master said 'No.' 'You'll from this moment Be not a king, but a servant Of mine to rule the country On a monthly paid salary.' What a wonder, as days passed, The servant became relaxed! Isn't his 'My own' very thought Countless worries it brought? What we posses as our own If we treat it as God's own And ourselves as His servants Will the worries haunt us?