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!
