(c) Shilpa Sandesh
The pompous selves,
Are nothing
But the satanic elves;
Driving forces,
Of money,
And a want,
Of sophistication,
Are the blindfolds,
That we all wear;
The clamour,
Of the rap and the rock,
The uproar,
Of feuds and squabbles;
Be the cotton balls,
That clog our ears;
Let the rhythm,
Of Naam,
Chant in our minds,
Let the soul,
Open its wings,
And reach,
Where the One Soul be.