Thy Intelligence At Stake

Thou would send thy angel Of death ‘’Azrael ‘’ to the steps Of my door from the other sides Of the high hill and the deep sea I welcome him as he is thy agent And treat him as my especial guest And make him sit beside my head And give him to take milk and curd His duty is your command And my soul is his demand But let me tell thee before hand That I know not any heavenly etiquette Nor I have any lamp of wisdom By which I could illuminate thy kingdom I am a rustic of this world And live a life of flesh and blood To do errors is my habit If thy not want to regret After taking my ignorant soul Please make me wise Before I set off to sail Thy intelligence is at stake.