To whom does this come

"I am not the body, which is but dust I am not fickle and limited mind To whom then comes the feral thrust of lust Or for that matter, thoughts loving and kind" Unseeking Seeker What makes for packed out pews How do we decide if we win or lose Living feels confusing, an empty exercise Hippocratic aim to do no harm before demise When I'm rendered just in the remaining mind What will exist when essence and body unbind All of my nothing and something equated Me, as a being, taken stock of and rated There is little to care regarding my final review To sum up unnecessary, when just passing through For just one brief second I require the glow From those souls left, to wish me well as I go That I mattered in lives tangled with my own That being in my company felt like coming home For I know the pain of feeling un-nested Let me be the place others feel rested Though I'm doing not a thing for ultimate glory I want what I want, I feel passion and fury If my arms are around you, then I want to be there I'll never fool anyone if I don't really care The difference will show in how I bond Essence to essence with no lies on my tongue Change thyself for the better is a wonderful aim Not by wearing a mask, you can't cheat the game When my funeral arrives, I'll find out what I meant I hope and I wish they say I was time well spent