Confusion jets its way into my veins⁣
A task met with resistance through intellect⁣
It fails to clear it ⁣
So I ask the intuition in me to guide⁣
It looks at images⁣
A broken finger, a scattered mind⁣
A soul of delusion, no peace inside⁣
⁣
A broken finger fails to write⁣
But it serves as a reminder⁣
As the passion to make sense rises⁣
The act of not doing serves as death⁣
For a reincarnated purpose to come alive⁣
⁣
The mind malfunctions its ability ⁣
A place for everything and⁣
Nothing is in its place⁣
It tries to find labels⁣
It tries to seek help from time to time⁣
⁣
The formless soul⁣
Wears the sheath of delusion⁣
It dances through the confusion⁣
It revels in the destruction of the internal eye⁣
A barren continent collides with another⁣
Mountains spring forth life⁣
⁣
The balancing act is near its end⁣
The ocean roars, rips apart the sky⁣
Yet there remains an observer⁣
Unsullied, untouched, ⁣
The union of everything⁣
Words fall short, but they all lead⁣
To the source, time and time again