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As you look at me I'm not him.
Wearing a face of a man that does not exist, a myth.
For i am reserved, deep within the confines of self.
Ensorcelled, impelled, upon a journey of discovery.
Under the melanin pigmentation of epidermal.
Through the subcutaneous tissue, to travel around blood vessels, capillaries, and arteries, the rivers of life.
Observed and closely investigated all the fibers of the muscles, the joints, and the tendons which bind them.
From the plantar, up the nervous system, to the cranium.
Within the essence of me, the was, the is, and the maybe, the realms of my brain.
Continuing through the optic nerve, peering through the retina.
If seeing is believing, then there's more says my fervor.
So I close the lids and travel further.
Encaged within the thoracic, observing the pulmonary action of breath taking.
At that moment, I hear the rhythm, the drumming of existence.
Astonished with disbelief, awaiting to awaken from this dream.
All the days and years of believing me void.
There it is, pulsating with strength, feeding all the limbs and giving me life.
Contradicting the accusations and claims
of the misinformed strife.
Reinforced by the deeds and sacrifices, the joy and the pains endured.
Shattered like glass, the image i am not.
Against all odds, I found that I do have a heart.
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