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

anurag duggal

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/whose-poem-is-it-anyways/