Am I a void or cosmic thinker?
a sage of innovation and creativity,
or an insane with deranged morality?
I am independent, in control of my body...
a human being filled with empathy,
or an entity equipped with mimicry?
Dependent, in the sense of ardency...
a purpose is what my soul banged away,
chasing it - like it's hastily running away.
Mirthful smiles drawn by people aesthetically...
flooding good lucks - bathes me in pity,
dries my existence - regarded as anomaly.
Ethers and synthetic polymers, they are likely.
†
