The day I was born
Was the day I died
Because the truth is gone
Until I die to re-born.
May be we are born
When we die,
May be we die
When born.
May be when we say
‘Everything which is born has to die’ is wrong.
May be ‘you’ and ‘I’ is just another “form”.
May be there is a place
Where time is still?
What if the places we see in dreams?
Are just the other places we live?
Like light is relevant to
Only those who can see,
Is the conscious, which can think
For us as we need.
Like snake can’t listen
And blind can’t see.
For snake sound never exist
And for blind it is an alien land
If he can see.
May be we are lacking those senses,
To answer the questions,
To understand the things,
To know the world,
The universe
And the God.
And to understand the truth
Which might have never existed.
