Numerous thoughts incline toward me

Each carries a unique motion

Each tries to build upon another demolition

Leaving me with confusion

Led by a multitude of ecstasy

My head branches like the weed

As Brownian as smoke of hash inside and out

No rescue arrives till I’m out, stoned with doubt

And I willingly lose it all

Forgotten, pampered, hit and hurt with the fall

My demise, my nirvana, my moksha

Are they all just myth

Or parts of a great equation not with a logical accord?

The dream does not stop here

As I decide to climb higher and higher.