Ego

ego identity long since vaporised at times yet surreptitiously resurrects it’s now like a dusty, discarded book lying somewhere on our bookshelf it served its purpose in our early years but then acquired a mind of its own soon after tail began wagging the dog so we plucked it out to sing soul’s song we now roam the earth bubbling with mirth this is taken as an orientation unbecoming trauma bonding with darkness most fear light so we dwell in the void, vibrant in our aloneness