I am one,
Yet I am many.
I stand alone,
Yet I am not lonely.
Loneliness comes to those
Who do not realize they are two.
I am not complete,
However, I am not broken.
I have no chains,
I serve no rulers.
I have no exterior worlds,
All is within.
Many lifetimes, various paths,
None without reason.
As all paths lead to Rome,
My heart, my soul is the Vatican.
This body I wear,
It is the mask of God.
All have their own masks, whether
They wear them, or hang them on the wall.
But mine is different,
It appearance distorted
Through the mask that you wear,
It is still beautiful to me.
I can gaze in the still waters
And see my mask,
How well it was crafted and formed,
And be proud.
For it is mine,
The only one that I own.
But I have worn it many times,
And I have worn it well.
Because I am.
I was, and I shall be,
But in every moment,
Every fleeting second,
I am.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem