Such a beautiful lie it is,
Some say, it's mysterious, I say "puerile" it is,
Nothing is determined, yet all is fixed,
We befool ourselves, yet we claim "not bewitched".
I read and learnt,
I possess the courage-i possess the courage to mold a rock,
I fear, it's true; I fear it is true,
But, "not" allowed the walk!
I refuse to agree, perfection cease.
We chose "weak", and reject the breeze.
We ignore "a stand" is "difficult",
I am an anomaly, who abjects the cult.
I fail to see how we see the scene,
I am an anomaly, can't submit the dreams!
Doomed to misery-what I forsee,
Is it worth or be one in the league?
I am wrong, am always so;
Guess missed the most important notes.
What to do, how to decipher?
It's a beautiful lie, an enchanting snare.
Who decides it is wrong, to do something?
A friend says, "what you see as 9, I see as six".
Then which light is red or blue or it's dark?
Who helps one through this labyrinth to cross.
Confused, I stare and wonder why it is,
How is this a beauty when only lie it is?
