When relationship with self
Becomes mere convenience,
An empty shell forms,
No real core.

Our true self fades,
Lost in the fog.
We lose our compass,
We lose our guiding star’s light.

Floating alone,
In a big formless sea,
We drift through time,
Chained and confused.

Each moment blends
Into the next,
As we wander blind
Through days and space.

In this hazy trip,
Where who we are
Is in exile,
We find ourselves lost
In anonymous days.

Filed under: 🜁 Self – tracing the inner landscapes of thought, feeling, and becoming.