Confounding states stuck in circles

The one who just died and the one who woke up suddenly

Talked all through night incessantly of karma and beauty

And the morning came and there was no motion of sanctity

What got preserved was ultimately reserved for the perplexity

As they went their ways and collided after one roundabout

Thought they met in a dream or that night from another journey

All came a full circle when one hundred years went by

As they met again at the roundabout and thought they had met before

What was seen was never there and all mad men were left with a stare

Every day they wake up to the day before and the one after

Caught between certainties and randomness of their being

Squeezed between timeless memories and progressive dreams

What is there when there is nothing in all the somethings

And in the frailty of simple and implausibility of complex

Those walk on the tightrope or that swim in the infinite green sea

Did they find the value of thoughts and caterings to emotions?

Or maybe all were just caricatures drawn on sands and washed perpetually

Between the crisis of identities and confusions of meanings

Those obscure moments of rain and sun on the glass pane

In all the shouts of dead silence and gambles of centuries

Pleadings of regeneration and tumultuous celebrations of vague

In all the mitigations of music and abstractions of words

Loss of all those paradigms that were never there or fair

Illusions of realities meshed in between here and there

When did we interfere when we were never somewhere

Unsure if there was a beginning and suspicious if there is an end

But then what’s within is what we miss everyday and everywhere

In our countless discussions and numerous fleeting emotions

Where is that consciousness that will wake us eventually

And put it to rest all ideas of God and Man

Why are we stuck when there have been and there will be

Eternal revolutions of time and convoluted visions in sunshine