Not the crescent of the midnight moon,
nor the rays of the morning sunrise;
what you really look at is,
what you see when you close 'em eyes...
Looking far and wide,
the intangible we seek;
but 'comprehend within',
sounds to us like Greek...
The picture's blurred we feel,
we rub 'em in vain;
but we fail to get it,
the lens' not cleansed again...
the rough roads out there,
take us for a test ride;
in our haste and pace,
lies our false pride...
Take a pit-stop,
sip a cool drink;
close 'em,
and let your mind think...
What you want,
for what you are the best;
the answer lies,
inside the hidden chest...
liberated shall we be,
and it would be evident;
that to win,
'there's no secret ingredient'...
The journey inside,
demands a strange view;
the funny part though is,
you are looking at you!
the moon will be splendid,
and so shall be the sunrise;
when you see them,
even with 'em closed eyes...
