KRISHNANAND GUPTAR
Men are all short-lived travellers 
Of the shining earthly sphere,
And death is the callous leveler
Of all who on its course do steer;
All the largest of creatures
And the tinniest of species
Do one day quit their outer garb,
Leaving behind fads and fancies;
Death is the leveler of all,
It respects no age, caste or creed;
It respects no rank, rule or deed;
All bows down when comes the call;
Whether powerful lords or kings, 
Monarchs or simple folks, indeed,
They all do fall down on his ring,
And with them nothing do they bring.
Thus, take no pride in wealth and glory,
In cars or mansions and palaces
In power and authority,
In social or family ties;
These are futile and out of place,
They last but for a day, a year
And do not keep you company
Or stay by your side, near and dear,
In your grave or when turned to ashes;
Your sole company to the grave
Remains your kind and noble deeds
From mire the human race to save,
And bring relief to folks in need;
Before the journey comes to close
It just behoves the traveller,
To reckon past and present deeds
That may long outlive his journey.
Selected from Collection of Poems “From Humanism to Spirituality”
Written by Krishnanand Guptar in 2020 and published in October 2021