Sitting by my study desk,
Gazing at the mirror ma self.
Wandering in the turbulent thoughts,
Wondering for the entity or naught!
Searching for the pristine pith,
Seeking to know the mortality myth.
Writing or written, the lines of morrow!
Says the heart; deep in sorrow.
Who am I? Is this me?
This is flesh, ywis not me!
Am I effigy? Am I a soul!
Am I a deed? Am I a dream!
Is it a trail; or stage!
Neither real and nor so fake.
Might this be answer; or a quest!
No one knows, what is next.
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