Why I Am Poem by Elie Karaan

Sometimes I wonder why I am.
Is it to pervade all thought with elusive tranquility?
Will the dialect of my being foster a change throughout?

The twilight train treading through the Temple
tears it's way into the deepest aspects of a false reality,
further obscuring the purity I never knew.
Sometimes I wonder why I am.

Broken shadows of my soul illuminate the figure in the mirror,
exposing little of what is known
and making it all that is.
Sometimes I wonder why I am.

These altered mindstates have inevitably deceived
the inconsistent imagery of my inner-sanctity,
blinding the mind's eye from any furthering sight.
'I've made a lot of mistakes in my mind, in my mind.'

Until departure from this temporary sense of self-illusion,
feelings will not know what to feel,
and wondering shall be my guide
toward immortal disorder.

Sometimes, just sometimes,
I wonder why I am.