This is a poem, that focuses on the illusion of life, the uselessness of all endeavors. Then in old-age we are left complaining about a life, not well led.
We take the value of Truth lightly. We feel we can fool the world and make merry. We are living in the deepest of illusions. Its time to wake up and take the call
Consciousness, is the nature of existence. We are hounded by the world of duality, which has become the source of all problems. If one were to get into self-awareness, to look for it, at the source, the problem of our existence and that of the world shall stand unraveled
Life is growing mystery. We do not have answers to so many questions of life. Is there a way to get the answers?
We take life for granted. Are we really qualified in commenting what is right or wrong? We may have opinions, but are we qualified to dictate?