What am I? Nothing but doubt, acting atop this stage
What am I not? All but certainty, excluded from me
It is not a punishment to know not the world's gaze
But a mercy on my sanity, for my eyes are not free
Death, dare I not seek; the fool's errand awaits
The renown of wisdom is overrated while I know not
Is it me who is the fool? Or is the world too heavy on its weights?
Answers are many, yet more are the questions that I forgot
I lift the mystery of life with ease. It is rather easy
What am I holding? What else, but life itself?
I grab it and read it. Too much white leaves me dizzy
Another chapter, another me. I better put this on the shelf
Only I can know what it is written. My life lies in blanks
Yet, I read it. My mind is broken; for I lay in pieces
What order are they in? I give but a single thanks
For my blissfulness as my insanity decreases
It does not matter. Not the order, nor the event
I am the author. I am the reader. I am the book
Leaving empty pages, I am without lament
For it is exciting! Wondering about my next story's hook!
What else!? What more!? I am filled with intrigue!
My world is getting the renown it deserves
But sadly, my heart's getting Author's Fatigue
But it cannot stop! I am at the end of my nerves!
This second-rate theater cannot be it!
I am the actor! My life must go on!
Like a show, I will see to it as I see fit!
Tragedy and comedy! Let them on me fall upon!
Give me costumes and scripts alike!
From devil to angel, I am a master of disguise
There is no role I could dislike
So bring it on! Hit me with life's biggest surprise!
...What is it really? What am I to you? Liar
You said nothing, yet you lied to me
You did nothing, yet it hurts like fire
You are nothing, and yet, why does it hurt to see?
The meaning of life stares back as I cry
My world is finally known! But I am forgotten
Such is the life of an author. My work lives as I die
I am now a memory. The one answer I ever gotten
But what was the question that got answered?
Life's greatest question is without meaning
What a memory questions is death unanswered
Lost forever in thought, why is my mind still grieving?
Will I fade away? Or will I remain forever in you?
In thought, I am eternal. In word, a constant change
What truly am I? A soliloquy of who?
I am mystery. The world we all live in atop this stage
YOU ARE READING
Memory Fragments: Probity
FantasyWARNING: CONTAINS VERY EXPLICIT CONTENT. The heart is found hidden in the aftermath of choice. An enlightened path gets brighter when humanity is restored by imperfection. Only the darkles of intertwined flesh obscure the void left while casting dar...
