Being ego-free for non-dual self-guided experience: A decastich
The "I," a phantom, builds a wall so high,
That Source from Substance seems a world apart.
For sense's trinkets, fleeting joys we crave,
Build ego's prison, a self-dug grave,
Ego's vices beckon with a siren's call,
Where unity is shattered, we're doomed to fall.
Must strip ego, and let the spirit soar,
Beyond all labels, images, lie,s doors.
When ego fades, and truth begins to gleam,
Our own guide found, within a waking dream.
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