What is this life?*

A walking shadow?
A poor player?
A stage for drama?
Full of strife?
A tale told by an idiot?
Sound and fury signifying nothing?

Full of fails?
Lotus eater?
Penelope's web?
Maya's lab?

Coffee spoons?
Aflatoooons?

Sin against sinning?
A steady revenge?
Unconquerable will?
A nine days fall?

A life on thorns?
Full of mourns?
A dream within a dream?
A bubble on the foam?
A mid-summer madness?
A general drama of pain?

Musical Chairs?
Unmatched pairs?
A split asunder?
A nine days wonder?
A sweet, sweet rose?
Love's music feast?

A perpetual prayer?
A soft sooth-sayer?
A Garden of Eden?
Bliss and happiness?

Eat, drink and be merry?
A creation of brain?
A journey by train?
A living beings' chain?

A soft murmur answers:

Matter is the body,
Energy is the soul;
These two together,
Make it roll.

Stream of consciousness ,
Perpetually flows;
Scattering unbeholden,
Its multiple hues.

At its bottom,
All's calm and composed;
The tormented surface,
Is deep equipoised.

The joys and sorrows,
Can reconcile;
If we can subdue,
Split ego's profile.

We suffer in body,
Not in soul;
The body decays,
Eternal is the soul.

"Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul"*

* Many of the questions about life have been borrowed from the great literary works.