Temptation leads to an act of action,
Action comes with certain deeds.
Good and bad co-create junction,
Oh fool why don’t you limit your needs?
Enough itself is never enough.
A concept relative to every being.
Our unnecessary necessity synonyms tough,
Fallacy is all that I am seeing.
Age old stories are being treated ill,
All for the comfort and purpose of some.
A game where end is peril,
I found a sage of ageless term.
White clothed with a smiling gaze,
Has no money or possession of his own.
Yet his wealth is beyond our chase,
Answering all in his calm and soft tone.
Simplicity, truth, non-violence and kindness,
Are principles to break the cycle of Karma,
Harbors the flame which ends all blindness,
Ageless Sage’s definition of Dharma
Be it any country, religion, race or identity, core values all remain the same. In the end we are all but a name.
Let me take you to the creative lane,
A place which is made of thoughts.
Hours of work along with happiness and pain,
Glorifying the artists who dwells on those spots.
A sketch wall built from scratch,
By the artist who visions and draws.
Everything you see is a perfect match,
Of a time which is forever at pause.
A dance alley where music surrounds,
Allowing the artists to express.
Every step is synced with the sounds,
To escape from the chaos, the stress.
A quiet garden, full of trees,
With leaves inked in thoughts.
Allows the writers to pass the keys,
To worlds that exists amidst plots.
A lake so calm and musically pure,
With singers singing their hearts.
The water there can help if not cure,
A place where every journey starts.
And finally a theatre near the lake,
Where an actor hides in plain sight.
So many hours of practice and re-takes,
It takes before the enchantment falls right.
They do what they do not for anyone,
But for the one that matter the most.
An artist sails in search of fun,
That hides in finding the lost.
~ A fellow Artist
In a lane where vines had grown,
Two were walking, together yet alone.
None was good and none was bad,
Let me narrate what I was shown.
Engulfed in darkness and in rain,
While walking in that very lane,
A dark figure caught our sight,
Scaring me while the guard remained sane.
Later ahead as it got filled with thorns,
Caused pain more than I could Bourne.
Blood started to leave its mark, But
the soldier beside took the bull by horns.
Tired of walking I felt a rage,
Trapping my mind, my heart in a cage.
Blinded by anger I lost my wisdom,
While the beggar endured his share like a sage.
On reaching the very end of the lane,
I asked a man, old with a cane.
Why were things so different for them?
It's the State of Mind, he said. No loss no gain.
