one more day at work is gone <br />and i sit in front of my computer <br />composing one more song <br />can any tell me <br />what all this will come to <br />all to a big zero <br />my few words <br />add to a confusion already so huge <br />maya the world delusion as the vedas call it <br />a world pulled over our eyes <br />bored of the real i have created the superficicial <br />beautiful clothes <br />watches <br />houses decorated women <br />all to make me forget the feeling of unease <br />that htere is a reality <br />beyond all this noise <br />something that beckons me daily <br />when i sit alone in my room <br />with my computer <br />and though my fingers type <br />is it really me who types <br />where are these thoughts really coming from <br />is it all chemicals reactions <br />in my brain as a scientist wud make me believe <br />surely a picasso or vinci <br />is not a byproduct of some neural transmissions <br />the inspiration must have some source metaphysical <br />anyways the poem drift on <br />seeking an end <br />and lo the end is near <br />which is salvation for the poem <br />that it must connect to my father almighty <br />resonate his deepest wishes <br />so i am sure my soul woulsd be guided <br />to its moksha as well <br />when all the lovestories are over <br />all attachments are cancelled <br />and the one bond that remains <br />is one with the real <br />a bond sublime <br />a bond metaphysical<br /><br />anurag duggal<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/whose-poem-is-it-anyways/