There was desire. And the desire was the fire.
In the fire of desire, life emerged as embers.
Beings rise into the light of life
And disappear into the darkness of death.
Even Before Mother could blink her eye,
Countless rise and fall on the stage.
The purpose was to play the part and depart.
Not to forget home and develop a craving for another revisit.
The self emerges and the senses take over,
Knowledge of the beyond is concealed,
It's Just like a clean blank slate,
Along with the baggage of the past, on every revisit.
Despite the fragrance of truth everywhere,
Making sensual pleasure a sweet sport,
Countless are stuck in a prison of their own making.
Unworried until a tragedy is struck, waiting for another reset.
Ignorant of the baggage becoming big every time,
Lost are those countless in the moment of illusion.
Mocking the real torchbearers and embracing clueless imposters,
Drifting further away from the truth every time.
Thinking enlightenment is a packaged product or a curated course,
Countless will remain puzzled when their plug is pulled temporarily,
Only to be re-plugged into a different socket,
Just because they could not quench their unquenchable desire.
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