The unknown
In the depth of my soul,
Lies nothingness next to my existence.
In a box lacking pure experience
Only one question is anchored in me,
“Is it mine purely, or just a monograph?”
A question with confusing philosophy.
Behind this social “instrument”,
Lies a resistant mind
Full of dreams and visions,
Not expressed due to fixed missions.
I say experience lies in uncertainty,
But told to trust the tangible
The “truth”punished for if questioned.
Truthfully, another question haunts me,
“Do I surrender, or do i explore the mystery?”
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