Dig deeper
Who in truth we are, we know not,
no wonder then, we are fear fraught,
since it's certain we will soon die,
reducing consciousness to naught.
Save in moments when love draws nigh,
we rarely reach bliss rapture's high,
drifting rudderless in the void,
nurturing thoughts that makes heart sigh.
Day and night, by dark desires toyed,
negating truths sung by Pink Floyd,
we ponder how we may reclaim
light of soul, pure and unalloyed.
There's no use to play the blame game,
so fixating on God our aim,
upon melding our head with heart,
bliss then becomes our claim to fame.
No doubt silence is a learnt art,
causing bliss ignition to start,
revealing we are living light,
enriched on adding love to cart.
This is how we garner clear sight,
byte by byte adding bliss delight,
in cave of heart, where God resides,
who reveals His form, lustrous white.
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