Who's that ghost who whispers to man
Justifying every action he takes
Be it in the forests or cities, wherever he goes?
Are not his senses his very own foes?

Who's the forerunner of man's destruction
Alluring him to the depths of shame
To be caught in the trap of misdeeds?
Is it not his insatiable greed?

Stop man, stop! You can still win
See your reflection in all, in and out of kin
Your sorrow is theirs, and theirs is yours
Your peace is theirs, and likewise

Be kind to nature, birds and animals everywhere
To the fishes of the seas and the marine life there
Be kind to yourself, be you a Muslim or a Hindu
A Christian, a Sikh, a Buddhist or a Jew

Life is precious, as a rose to bloom
And not to be sacrificed and burst like a bomb
Offer a rose to the world in all its fragrance
Holding Christ's love in His remembrance.