The Mirror Poem by Quaid-Uz- Zaman

Am i not adult enough
to have the portrait life-size? then what's of
metamorphosis if nothing changes at all
and all that retrieves to itself?
Everything seems to be constant but always changing in a
relative way,
 -an illusion of thought and vision that stirs the world.
We are not always the players
though keenly observe the glimpses of actions that we
pass through.
Are we in divine persuits? We are always in a dilemma
between right or wrong
truth and false
stumbling over myths and realities.
We return to ours dreams
with the colors we have and with hues that
we always have dreamt of
-an eternal thirst for reshaping the portrait
true to the soul.