Recently I’ve been acting a lot like an imposter,
There is an identity which I’m slogging to bring out faster.
My support system being that invisible masquerader,
Riding on the dark horse, infatuated with emancipators.
Where do I bury my bona fide soul?
The lifeless creature, pampered and tampered from its very core.
Which coffin should I place it inside?
My mind or my journals,” The unclassified.”
Vexed at this innocence, perturbed by my own reticence
Being a victim of cognitive dissonance,
I shudder and I crave for omnipotence.
With no intention of subjugating the world,
This supremacy is just a one-sided love.
Let the world remember this identity’s legacy,
the resplendence it showed.
There was a day when this identity was known,
Cry not today, embers the departed soul.
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