The two banks

The two banks; one being Life and another named Death.

When standing on one bank, the other looks promising.

The other bank is more visible, while the bank of life remains confusing.

Both the banks are apparently alike.

But we keep yearning for the other when in one.

Sometimes the connecting river dries up,

And we hardly notice that life and death has become all one.

Do we move from life to death and vice-versa!

Or remain unchanged; that's yet to be known

It been my folly to have attachment or aversion for anything,

When it's yet to be known if we ever lose or gain anything.

Half the day is spent in slumber when the mind cease to exist.

And so along with it all that was held to the mind.

Whatever may happen all around, but unless it's fed to my mind,

It's as good as nothing has ever happened.

If Death is that we experience when in deep sleep,

Then how less the time I spent living,

And that short span of time seems so long,

Filled with confusion, misery and illusion of joy.





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