A PERFECT WORLD?

O gentle destiny that watches over us,
In the midst of a perfect race does
humble the most imperfect, dwell.
I, a human chaos and a nebula of confused elements
Move amongst finished worlds!

Their virtues, O God, are measured
Their sins weighed and even
The countless things that pass
In the dim twilight of neither sin nor virtues
are recorded and catalogued!
Here days and nights are divided
Into seasons of conduct and governed
By blameless rule of accuracy!

To rob a neighbour with a smile,
To bestow gifts with a graceful wave of the hand,
To praise prudently,
To blame cautiously,
To destroy a soul with a word,
To burn a body with a breath,
And then to wash the hands
When the day's work is done!

To love according to an accomplished order,
To entertain oneself in a preconceived manner,
To worship God becomingly
To intrigue the Devil artfully
And then to forget all as
Though memory was dead!

All these things O God, are conceived
With forethought, born
With determination, nursed
With exactness, governed
By rules, directed
By reason, and then slain and buried
After a prescribed method.
ANd even their silent graves
Are marked and numbered!

Is it a perfect world?
A world of consumate excellence,
A world of spiritual wonders,
The ripest fruit in God's garden,
The master-thought of the universe?
But why should I be here, O God,
I, a green seed of unfulfilled passion,
A mad tempest that seek neither East nor West,
A bewildered fragment from a burnt planet?

A poem stolen from the cyber world written by a poet with screen-name: humble.
May Allah bless his soul.