Life goes on its path like a chariot pulled by five horses magnificient
These are our senses that provide power to the vehicle's transference
Our mind sits as the charioteer holding intellect's reins of control
Ego provides the direction for carriage directing it to final goal
Passenger's whims are many and quite fanciful, to be instantly gratified
Their fulfilment is the sole object of journey, as the ego ratifies
There are times when journey is purposeful with charioteer in the lead
But at other times the horses have a mind to run quite where they please
Every now and then a voice speaks softly for the chariot to stop
But in the tumult of raging power the words are on driver lost
When horses are fresh and the journey has just commenced more speed
But as time lengthens and scenery repeats happiness starts to yield
Directing the charioteer and setting a plan to reach a goal are fine
There is no pleasing sight than a coordinated team that is in line
But journey's goal is not in distance, and speed affects not divine
Greater bliss is leaving the chariot and stepping into paths undefined
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