Cravings and attachments are roots of strife: Poem

 Cravings and attachments are roots of strife: Poem

Things we want, things we hold dear,

Whispering doubts, fueling fear.

A constant ache, a restless sigh,

Beneath the surface, where they lie.

But let them go, like autumn leaves,

The world of joy, the heart receives.

When grasping hands begin to ease,

You’ll find your soul, and find your peace.

The roots of strife, they start within,

Where craving ends, peace can begin.