I am separate and absolute,

Scared but resolute,

Finite yet infinite, broken but resilient,

Flickering from unchanging to transient.

I am a devoted disciple, a restless rebel,

A solitude seeker on a rollercoaster ride,

Plummeting toward impending doom,

Yet gripping to hope like a fragile bloom.

Hunger for growth and self-sabotage,

A dance of expansion and camouflage,

Hibernating through the winter,

A phantom, a silent sprinter.

Apathy and regret—echoes in my walls,

Privacy crumbles as the curtain falls.

As if the world were a stage

and I, the unwitting performer locked in a cage.

A crystal of contradictions and afflictions,

Of addictions and strong convictions.

But perhaps I am bismuth—fractured but beautiful,

Changing and shifting, always unpredictable,

Until one day, dissolved into oneness,

I become nothing and everything again.