Man, a being of layers, fleeting and frail,
His conscience, stained, yet eternally pale.
The mirror of self—clouded, unclear, blurred—
A stranger's shadow returns, unseen, unheard.
A beast of whims beneath human guise,
Defiant to truth, no light in his eyes.
Burdened by unborn futures, drowned in pasts long gone,
Blind to the day his masks will be undone.
Let conscience rise—bright as the moon's glow,
Break the false chains of an imagined foe.
Innocence stirs, eager to emerge,
Beneath these veils, let the true self converge.
Through crumbling walls, the creative soul pleads,
A lotus blooming from corrupted reeds.
Let the Ubermensch, by fitrah, stand tall—
Awakened, reborn, to transcend it all.
MyKoul
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem