The  path  was  breaking  aloud,
what  was it  about,
the  bang  that  looked  like  a  cloud..
..All  i  know  that  it  was  a  sound  of  Life, that  it  was  a  moment  of Light,
that  it  was  a  show  of Might,
and  it  was The  beginning  of the  Plight.,.. ...
I  felt  i  was  numb  ,  lying  in  a  shell  dumb, was it  the  first  time  in  the  first  wave  when  i  felt  that  the Shell  was  Mine,... ....Had  it  happened  before  or  was  the  same  all  the Time  that  went  round,
I  could  not  figure  and  wondered  if I  ran  through  the Time  or  the  other  way  around,...
...so  i  say  if  there  was  no  time, there  would  be  no  rhyme,.... ..."I"  is  all  he  says,  but  he  yet  doesn't  know  the  "I", why does he fear the  loss of "I",.... ...Why  is  he  so  reluctant  to  surrender, Did  he  earn  something  to  Lose, or  he  felt  the  belongingness  too  hard  to  Lose,....
....They  say  its  a  mystery, How he(I)  does not  wonder, When they perish  everyday  asunder,... .
So  it  comes back  to  Time, as  he  waites for  zero  to  turn  nine, and  adds just  new  words to the  same  rhyme, I  just  implore  Him  to  End  this  Time, I  beseech  Him to  Let  Us be  One and forget  the  Nine,.....
Let's be just one and forget the TIME.

One day I thought I could see,
But what I found was just eyes.
The day I thought I saw,
What I found was the eyes closed.
Such has been the dilemma,
For all that can be seen.
The observer is part of observed,
And then the observed is itself the observer.
What is it that I see and how do I see the "I",
What is the truth and are there any absolute eyes.
Yes I have an answer though it is my answer,
We all have ours.
So they give us extension but take away their compensation,
Like how a new toy invested in life takes away my affection and time,
And So are the eyes that give me a new world to see but take away a world from within me.
Take away a world from me to produce a world outside me ,
Take away a life from me to produce a Life to show me,
Take away a life from me,
To produce a life for me,
To produce a life for me.

....It was the day i saw life blossom
something triggered in my *****,
I always wondered the subtle selection
was it me or some natural connection,
What was longing what was hope
it was so hard to cope,
What was high and what was low
i never knew where i had to go.....
......Then it transpired when i started to flow
i could not believe what it had to show,
There was a road but nowhere to go
there was a play but how to say,
A man made of clay
covered in the shades of grey
he was looking for the shining day
a word, a feeling or a wish to pray.....
I know you want me to say
but i would'nt be here if i was to say...
So it was only.....
to be or to witness the Man of clay....
to be or to witness the Man of clay.....
to be or to witness the Man of clay........