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Identity

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Are we who we say we are
Or just an unconscious imagination?
Like leopards becoming lions
Or mice becoming rats>

One begins to ponder if hiding is really a chore or if protection is a virtue.
We bury ourselves so deep that our maps are lost, the treasure a vivid dream
Is it worth the pain of having to find ones self without a memory or trace?

To be at a masquerade ball with so many people and yet feel so alone:
Abandoned...
To trust anything but yourself, even if it causes unhappiness or comes to the price of sacrificing love
Love so dear it is the essence of your soul:
your heart, your life...

No one will ever know their true selves,
it is a gift so precious it is bombarded by the earths laws at birth:
it is forgotten, broke, lost...




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