I looked, but did not see.
I searched, but did not find.
I touched, but did not feel.
I hurt, but did not heal.
I existed in non-existence.

Who was I?

My hands—wrinkled and weak,
My back—hunched over from the weight of the world.
My soul—shattered.

My life is a double mirror.

Looking out, I see nothing but vastness-emptiness.
Looking in, I look at the shattered soul of a man that used to be whole.

I can’t exist with a shattered soul.

I may look, but will not see,
I may search, but will not find.
I may touch, but will not feel.
I may hurt, but will not heal.
I will exist in non-existence.

Who am I?

I look into my past,
I search for a piece of my soul,
I yearn to exist once more.

I look into my present,
Looking at a ghost of the man I once was.

I look out to my future, and see nothing.
Cannot see anything,
It’s as if nothing is there.

I am destined to look, but not to see.
I am destined to search, but not to find.
I am destined to touch, but not to feel.
I am destined to hurt, but not to heal.
I am destined to exist in non-existence.
I am destined to never know:

Who will I be?