How I long to give in to the mortal pleasures of the flesh,
Yet lusting for the release of the physical world I exist,
Paradoxically halted by my own humanity.

Am I this name, this face, this soul?
Is this body inseparable from me?
I look at my digits and exalt in their beauty, these vessels which carry me through life.

How I wish to ascend to the heights of consciousness,
Yet praying for the escape from this eternal solitude,
Perpetually stunted by my own humanness.

Am I this heart, this blood, this mind?
Are those people inseparable from me?
I look at their digits and exalt in their beauty, those vessels which carry us through life.

How fleeting, how trivial, how small everything is.
How permanent, how significant, how immense everything is to me.