Who Am I? Poem by Thinker Shah

Our ingress is with a cry,
and egress with a sigh

I ask staring at the sky,
but who actually am I?

Why am I sentient,
and what is my goal?

Am I a bunch of neurons,
or do I really have the soul?

If it's only about neurons,
Why does it all just end?

If it's about eternity of soul,
Where does it finally land?

Do I actually live in synapses,
With a pattern made of clay?

Or am I actually eternal soul
That dies and drifts away?

In short ephemeral glory,
We all so merrily bask

The real pointed questions,
We to ourselves, never ask!