The light finds it hard to get in.
Like weed in jungle
They grow since birth
Covering the soul
Stand within wild and strong.
Immersed in the darkness of grave
Day in and day out
The blindfolded mind like a slave,
With a blackened mask of ego
Knowing what our senses crave,
Works for their drooping tongues.
The plants can be trimmed,
Only if we know the pleasure of light.
The horizon of the sky can be unveiled,
When we try to reach beyond the sight.
A garden within us, we all carry
It’s unearthed only with the upkeep right.