Like, the deer runs after the
mirage
soul wanders to satisfy
the desires.
Thirst remains, ever
unquenched
as it thinks shining sand,
true water.
It flies branch to branch
like a bird
finds no place, to have
complete rest.
Skipping here and there
soul forgets
where’s the correct
address of its nest.
Unending desires lead to
the causes
of whole worry that soul
has to bear.
If needs are kept to the
minimum and
felt contented, worries
get disappeared.
Who’re devoted to god; need
nothing.
Who need nothing, they
are the kings.
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