No end, no beginning,
the line blurs into a round.
Where does it start,
and where does it end?
In the walk of life,
is it that or a run?
You start somewhere,
end up in quite another
The road looks unrelently straight,
but that too is a mirage.
An illusion others would say,
you come back to where you didnt want to be.
He came,
like that circle.
Without a conclusion,
and I kept thinking he was such a straight line!
Life is like that;
from the womb to another,
shedding bones and skin,
to be another for one more lifetime!
the circle goes round and round,
and we go with it.
A meaning cannot be sought in all this,
for meaning too has no end or start.
Wonder away about what I'm getting at;
I wonder too.
Like the endlessness of it all,
I know paths will cross.
That....
is....
inevitable!
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