Who's me in the name of a signal to me?
Who's me in the corrupted body?
Who's me standing still, facing everybody?
Who's me, an answer indefinite and serene.
I am here, but is it my soul or reincarnated spirit?
I can speak, but is it the echo of my heartstring?
I believe, but is it a collective force individually?
I can dream, but is it virtually a reality?
Invictus I am, though Jungle Rules still prevail;
Lonely I write, though my soul connects with a mail;
I have a shadow, though I don't know if it's my tail;
I see a rainbow, though I think that's also a trail.
Whose logic am I using, to justify my morality?
Is it embodied by wisdom, or preached by Figures?
Whose emotion am I outpouring, to express my identity?
Is it an inherent nature, or a taught nurture?
When all the core values confuse me, who can judge me?
If truths are blind with headphones, who can I trust t'see?
Then a mirage, a flood, migrations and bloods- the history
are written in discarded codes, and never sucedes!
Who's me, who takes ignorance as strength?
Who's me, who confuses order out of anarchy?
Who's me, who is educated to be upstanding?
Who's me, who is struggling to find me?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem