A thought upon wasting time reverses itself under scrutiny that moves Deeper from surface
Here in its domain we are being wasted bit by bit by its mighty power
The eternal Yama ever so slowly tightens
Its snooze around our neck and
Drags us to the sacrificial alter of time from where nobody escapes
Our body like wick of oil lamp drinking its sustenance
Drop by dropp finally burns itself out
In nature’s play energy being created and wasted every second
Life in the realm of Creation seeks continuous new expressions
The enigmatic hands of time working from behind
Give us the illusion of our own invincible power
And as if we own that slippery moment
Creates an urge for us to leave an impression upon next
As a signatory of destiny this and only this is our calling and our joy.
*Yama – ancient Indian deity of time and death
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