Classic Poem

O Lord who is there besides You who will hear my cry?

Strange is my petition: a poor man, I, I seek to become a king…

From time immemorial I have suffered the tortures of hell and have lived through many low births, but I crave not for wealth or even salvation though I know that You can confer all these.

What I desire is to become in every birth a toy for You to play with or a stone to touch Your Feet.