Life is but an illusion, like a little theatrical play,
With people as actors, with different roles we portray.
Unbeknownst to us all, that we too, are the scriptwriters,
Revising our stories, or changing our music, as songwriters.
We are the stage directors, for we supervise our own lives,
Choosing between dualities, opting how exactly to survive.
For when life is filled with roses, we raise our glasses to cheer,
To celebrate, to toast for each accomplishment we adhere.
Alas, we feel the prickly thorns as we hold our beautiful rose,
Powerless to break away, real emotions we can barely disclose.
Feeling the pierce from within, as the thorn cuts through our skin,
Unable to admit our feelings, unsure where to exactly begin.
Sacrificing for love, we embrace every pain,
For all we truly wanted, inner peace we attain.
We take words in one ear and let it all out the other,
As we choose to filter, if we need to react or even bother.
Playing the cards that was dealt to us, the best way we know how,
Trusting in divine providence if we only listen and learn to allow.
Like a Genie in a bottle, realize we have the power,
To climb mountains, to cross seas, to escape prison towers.
Feeling powerless and hopeless, how do we get over our distress?
Overwhelmed with many challenges, perplexed, and depressed.
Holding on to the puzzle pieces, unable to see the big picture,
Down on our knees in prayers, reading the holy scriptures.
In the end, we must believe that life indeed is an illusion,
That all the chaos surrounding us, need not be our conclusion.
All the tears that we shed, the sleepless nights we go through,
Finding solutions for each problem, all lined up in a queue.
We are our own Genie, more powerful than we think
Mind, body, and soul, we must integrate to be in sync.
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