I’m not real.
Just a mirage, a shadow that disappears with the fading light.
All that you hear about me is inconsequential –
For he who truly knows me cannot speak about me.
The me that you see is irrelevant –
For I’m not what you see, I’m much more and a lot less than that.
Anything you know about me is obsolete –
I’m ever-changing, morphing into forms you cannot fathom.
I’m not where you search for me,
I’m not what you wish me to be.
Cry all you want, laugh while you can
Despair, lose your hopes and question your faith
I will still remain the enigma that I am
For better or for worse.


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