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| From What the eyes cannot see |
Surviving the daily grind of life
Is a skirmish each one faces day by day
Fighters of the corporate rat race
Oblivious to the physical derelicts
But we really have to play this game
This is but as normal as the olden days
Tribes in groups out to forage and hunt
They all struggled to become warriors and sons
We throw punches like pro-boxers do
And spit on each others faces like statesmen
Get enraged by the nemesis’ advances
Continuously trying to stay ahead
When the time for getting off arrives
I happily jump and sit comfortably
Savouring every peace and quiet
For meditation and self recollection
I drive slowly to a wonted place
To see the orange lampshade by the window
As it sheds its calm light to a room
Where Beauty rejuvenates in every night
Gazed at the bright pane so eagerly
Feeling recharged with every passing moment
Coz of the connection, the distance
True divine intervention doing its part
So I make my way back to my home
With nothing but content and full energy
To face another war with the world
And the violent cycle goes on and on
