The Yogi and the State

The yogi breathes deep and long and meditates in a song of mantric depth.
The yogi breathes deep and long and meditates in a song of mantric depth.

The State is great if you’re running late

And can’t bother to think for yourself.

It’s your life, with its beauty and strife

But if you’d prefer pleasure

Then the State is there with its allure

To trade you comfort for servitude.


Its crude and old fashioned but it seems to work:

The chains so subtle, they feel sweet at first.

Lies and propaganda lull the masses to sleep

But the yogi is alert, her mind they cannot keep.


The yogi breathes deep and long

And meditates in a song

Of mantric depth.


The army is set to march,

The war mongers have gathered the young.

The lion’s claws are sharp and oh so near,

Yet well hidden in a sheep’s wool of words.


The yogi breathes deep and long

Internalizes the song, knows the melody’s source

Feels the soul’s freedom.


Swords are drawn and “Victory to the State!”

And “Us not them!” they cry while preaching fear.

Knowing the importance of

Stopping the masses from thinking

They push the young headlong into death.


Manufactured emotion fills our eyes with tears.

An endless news feed prevents thoughtful reflection.

They keep us on our knees, oh the masters of war.

The yogi instead chooses the lotus pose.


The yogi continues to breathe and frees those around her

And creates quite a stir without a thought of harm or malice.

She takes the chalice of liberation: moksha

He shares the nectar with all.


The yogi breathes

As worlds come and go

And all the while she knows

Freedom is there in the simple song of Love.

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