I rode down the street named life; chasing an illusion,
On a streetcar named "desires". It haunts me in the sleeping wakefulness.
I fall in my karmic hole dug by me when I passed that path before my birth.
I am not a victim. Helpless? Yes.

The street looks familiar; one seen in my dreams.
Conditioned to walk on well-trodden path since I was five.
It is embedded in my motherboard; habits don't change that easily.
Growing up takes time; not in human-years but in Brahma's days.

Eternity for me to find my faults.
When I do, "I" opens my eyes; disillusions me.
Veil of Maya hides the truth.
Knowledge of Self is the knife that cuts the veil,
Though it is a journey on the razor's edge
So wrote one Upanishads sage.

Subliminal messages warns me of a hole,
Life's ultimate journey; the cosmic black hole.
The I takes off my blinders; lo and behold, I am wiser now,
Guided onto another path by a known stranger.