My mind drones, a hive, each thought's a bee
Sipping from purple fields of fragrant thyme,
I fly home to comb, nectar drips through time,
With amber wax and honey rippling free.
My thoughts when disturbed sting suddenly!
If snared by disputes that aren't sublime,
Beware! my bees swarm beneath the scented lime,
I withdraw, deep into my heart of nullity.
The dance of bees points the path to flowers,
A wise Sage points out the way to Truth,
Queen 'me' has reigned for countless life time hours,
But when 'me' dies, my bees all keep still forsooth.
If freedom has yet to arise dear sleeper,
Heed this advice from an old bee keeper.
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