I feel it
and now  
I think I am sure
I know nothing

at the end of things
nothing seems the same
the past in retrospect is but
vestiges of words and memories-
it seemed so real then
but is now shrouded in a cloud
in the most nebulous doubt

yes, I was there
that I don't deny
as I recollect in the present
I could never be sure
(who is sure about life
or the right or wrong of things?
and what is real or unreal?
Who can grasp life's unknowns and mysteries?)

Am I a walking dream?
Is life a mere illusion?

no
it's not about
to be or not to be
or being or non-being
that which I had acted upon
were deeds that had been done
and the past could never be undone
moments that expired
like  rain once fallen
could not be recaptured
even if I were to repent
yet--there's none to judge me
but my own self--
why have remorse then?

we are shadows
we aren't real
(is reality but a hoax?)

All said and done
I conclude-
life is a lacuna
I am nothing
but  a moment in time
and nothing do I know.