Verse

They emerge, They pop

Dissipating into thin air.

I seem to do it on autopilot

Letting these bubbles

Run in infinite.

"Sit still, sit straight!"

The instruction is straightforward.

"Shut it..the vision, the speculation."

"This creation is but a charade

Springing in the thought."

"As you see it, so it is

And not the other way around!"

The gyaan is definite.

It's only this mind, the mirage

That dwells in the drug of addiction

Spinning them bubbles

That rise and plonk,

Such facades of illusion it creates.

Oh just shut it,

And I have arrived if I forget it

And dwell in nothing.

How amazingly simple to hear

How amusingly complex to adhere!