The Statue Maker
The death angels came to take a soul,
But the whole game appeared to be foul.
Thirteen alike persons standing in queue,
The real one, they wanted, there’s no clue.
Angels confused, whose soul they’ll take;
‘God’ will never forgive, if they mistake.
In fact, the skilled and clever statue maker,
Could carve one’s sculpture, truly similar.
The carver was very confident of his art;
‘Why should not use it for me’, he thought.
He had made twelve statues alike to him,
Virtually, he put his soul, in making them.
Statues were so perfect, looked like alive;
Though breathless but none could realise.
When came to take his soul, angels of death;
He stood amongst those, stopping his breath.
Angels couldn’t identify him; returned in vain.
Reaching the god, full story they explained.
‘Single such person made, records ascertain’,
The angry ‘God’ told, and sent them again.
This time the angels came, a plan prepared;
Watching statues carefully, they murmured-
‘Wav! an excellent work, but done a mistake!’
Listening such comment, he shook like quake
Stunned statue maker, immediately did react
And surprisingly yelled!, ‘where is the mistake?’
Where the mistake was, angels understood,
Soul of the great carver, very easily they took.
