Spiritual yearning manifests when time shapes elder life
Ego's vacillations and attractions then cease to be a prize
Meaning is sought for a life's journey from birth to death
A fine line is drawn between two opposites equally set
The constraints that trammel our life are self's creation
No absolute truth can be attested to them, time's aberration
Yet they hold our minds with such tenacity that seems real
But ephemeral they are and vanish soundlessly on coming near
We propel ourselves through life's byways as by unseen force
Like a mosquito sitting on a bull's horns, making idle boast
We force our will on others around, greater on those loved
Assuming that we are responsible we strut around quite unbowed
Yet again there is revolt by those controlled, who wish freedom
And we quell the uprising, inspite of akin emotions in our bosom
Our greatest scars are received through our own feigned battles
We are good and evil, saint and sinner, both devil and the apostle
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