What will become of me?
So often we have wondered
But we know so little of our souls
In the mirror, a stranger stares back
Unblinking and scared, petrified
A fly caught in a web, we struggle
To identify ourselves beyond our name
Peering in our eyes we see nothing
Just two black holes devoid of life
No past, no present, no path
A reflection of what's inside
We stand still, when everyone's moving on
A motionless body among the crowd
Some go left, some go right
Until we remain alone
When life is at the crossroads,
Questions are without answers
What are truths today are lies tomorrow
And uncertain remains the future.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem