(yet another introspection)
Underneath the shine, on this mountain of pride,
I tumble and dabble, yet still yearn to travel,
into the blue lagoons and across the white heaven.
I tend to contemplate, the leetspeak of Zarathustra and Krishna,
If that is indeed a sure way to live?
If the future was already a past unto itself?
Of the treasures I’d gain, by besting one of our own,
Would they everlast, or if that even matters?
I thought I’d discover the ways of the world,
and drifted out there, into that little whirl
The beauty of life is that hypocrisy is a vibe,
Girded by schism, suddenly it got real.
And in this skirmish I found, the light in your soul.
kept hearing those sounds, kept seeing those grounds
Now they remind me of you, and your sweet little boat,
..of wonders and smiles, warm sunsets and kites.
Alas, I’d venture deep into the murk with a hint of quietude.
As by now, I have had my share of weeds and thorns;
while I’d still fancy life, but an astute one.
Oh what I wouldn’t give, on this quest of The Truth.
I wouldn’t dare to be foolhardy,
But the journey of life is not an illusion.
Or what if The Truth, is merely a qbit?
I had once repudiated God’s God’s license to chaperone,
But the omens, as puissant as they always are,
Hath drawn my soul, and bent my free will,
into the unfathomably deep valleys of reason and doubt
I am, but an arc of life, a creation of nature,
who thence completes the circle of life.