It's a beautiful day
I've been wasting away.
Sitting in silence,
All thoughts are astray.
I think to myself of the time I have lost.
I think of great things and how much they will cost.
And how can it be the body can't afford?
The things that my soul will try to adore.
It's all time and money. These things I don't have.
When I'm dead and rotting I'm sure I'll be glad.
When space-time is time-space and nothing exists.
Even though it's all there and my thoughts will persist.
Then I won't worry of the waste I've become.
There won't be emotion inside the ashram.