Why write what I cannot put in words
And define the very essence of that
Which can never be defined at all
There is a thin line of difference
Between this image that make me
Whom you think I am and I maybe
An illusion pulled over you eyes
But the reality is that which I am
Is beyond the mere definitions that
You choose to enslave me with.
I have a problem, I call it a strength
And that is a disregard for authority
Be it in any form or fashion, I abhor
You may call me a rebel, a sociopath
A device of revolution or a misfit
But the truth is that I am not owned
I cannot be controlled and I am free
A significant enigma is what I am
For every conditioned mind that keeps
Trying to subdue the force within.
There is no time and temparament
Worthy of rising up against my power
That which decides to make an attempt
Fails in every aspect known to nature
For I am the very soul and sincerity
Behind every natural phenomenon
Whichever path you choose to take
Leads ultimately unto my source
The beginning that has no cessation
An end for all of eternity's games.
Hear me clear now and remember this
For this is your only hope and way
Out of this stumbling maze of duality
Should you choose to define, then die
Surely you must again, and again
With every death ending in yet a birth
And so shall this wheel turn around
But the moment you step out of it
Then you shall realize the game
And with a resolve to reach the end.
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