While expressing his longing for the Lord and praying for his mercy, Kabir criticizes the different religious leaders who preach piety, claim to be highly evolved souls and seek to guide others. According to Kabir, they are devoid of true devotion, spiritual attainment and even the quality of mercy, for they kill animals, eat their flesh and tell their followers to do the same. Kabir ends the poem with a prayer to the Lord to accept him and take him under his shelter.

You are pure, my Lord,
You, the ocean of supreme bliss!
Even sages and prophets
Crave your refuge;
What chance have I,
A poor beggar at your door?

You are the river, beloved Lord,
That flows deep within every heart;
You are an ocean of mercy and bliss,
Yet never have you blessed me
With even one loving look:
Alas, how unfortunate I am!

They devise ways to guide others,
But have no qualms at killing beasts —
And they claim to be highly evolved souls!
They play truant from devotion,
From the service of the Lord,
Yet keep begging
And craving for reward;
Vile at heart, they defy God,
Invoking blessings on some,
Wielding a knife on others.

Seeing them, this beggar
Feels sad and helpless.
Beloved Lord,
Kabir is your bondslave,
He craves your refuge;
Accept him,
You who are the support
Of all beings,
Accept him.

K.G., p. 148:323
Tu pāk parmānande