I’m lost
Lost in many faces and personas
like totem poles filled with termites
Which face is mine?
The one with wings extending from my head
or one of the many with mandibles
chewing away at the core of my being?
Am I crazy?
Cause I wish I were at times.
Defining myself as the man that sees ghost,
babbles at the florescent moon,
and preaches of the up coming doom.
I would be myself and not a spectrum
Splitting light to the aura
fragmented to my beating heart.
But I’m not
So who am I?
My self defined by self denial.
My identity of nothing but all.
Interwoven like Buddhist though
Yet unwoven by the Tao.
A mess of emotions
Walking in an unclaimed shell.
Blank and existent.
A self unspoken shell
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A soul searching masterpiece you have here my friend.It makes me feel more human this time! Thanks.