In the style of Rumi:
Wandering thoughts venture into the wild, 
the ones we sought, we thought were mild 

Piled under wild aspirations, dejections, expectant attentions. remorseful rejections. 

Wheeling and reeling from the punch of reality, We seek vengeance with the dope of virtuality 

With thoughts coming out, like bats from a cace., we choose incantations, we whine and we rave 

at everything other than the causal effect, 

the root in front of us, we are swift to reject 

Like seeking_ the dove, in a cave full of bats, We scour the sewers. surprised to find rats 

We cling plausibly to denial, the promise of Love, 

We try and we fail, but we still seek the dove 

Until you choose to become, like Hafez, a Rend …. Who you may ask, is this sage, this friend? 

He reflects paradox, a mix of frailty and strength Combining purpose and despair. with wisdom intense, 

rebellious pray-er, in one vessel, sorrow and joy in essence 

freewill destined, intoxicated ascetic, unassuming towering presence.