I try to measure the overwhelming depth of the ocean,

And with a sly deception shudder at my fantastic obsession.

The Me Within opens his wings, flies high in the sky,

Lovingly callous about the miles treaded by.



I weave around myself, an aura of hapless piety,

Adorn my helplessness with a cocoon of sincerity.

The Me Within emancipates – out of the golden cage,

To soar the mountains steep with an astounding rage.



I look at my past with guilt, remorse and sorrow,

And search outward for an excuse that I could easily borrow.

The Me Within looks ahead never to turn back,

His burlesque gestures mock at me for the pluck that I lack.



I live in a world of purity, of rituals, of rights and of wrongs,

Content with the legacy of my notes, happy with the tyranny of my songs.

The Me Within is mischievously charming, gamboling in between,

And I hear his whistle blowing, humming a tune so serene.



I count my days, count my time, and count my blessings, to win,

And relinquish the countless moments of joy, scared of committing a sin.

The Me Within is a careless lad, who happily loses with a smile,

And brandishes his joyful hat, every once in a while.

*

I wish I could be like him, and he’d live my life like me,

I’d paint the sky with freedom, and dive through the depth of the sea.

Reality shrieks yet again, with her deafening draconian din –

When he leaves me, and I leave him, I’d meet the Me Within…