What purchase to justify the elusive possession of human identity

In emulation of that which confronts by baffling order of habituation

That tangled interaction in breathless strangeness of the ordinary existence

Yet there is only daylight and that which is condemned to die by life’s end

Those insoluble difficulties that as such are confusions that resolve themselves

In a strangeness that is both touching and grotesque and ask a simple question

What is the self? What is identity? What is that which haunts throughout a life?

Only that of a masque which hides in mediocrity and grief another mask  

Which allows an awakening only to continue to live the saddest of our dreams