Our Actual Identity Poem by Somali Mukherjee

Who am I? Who are you?
Wherefrom do I come?
Which place is this?
Where will I go?

Why do we fight?
For sheer sham fright?
For premeditated position?
What's that? How long will it last?

We are none, we are nobody
But the divided parts
Of the Supreme Soul;
We are the divided bread-loaves.

We will have to go
There where we come from;
We have come here, on this
Transient playhouse to prove,
Prove how we can perform.

We get involved in this
World's illusions, mirages,
That will never last,
That will fade away
Through the ages.