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The question regarding the question relies on what the question really is.

If the question implied is a question directed outwardly, then it may be misinterpreted as a question to oneself internally.

Otherwise, a question explicitly directed inwardly is critical to deciphering the question that one will address outwardly.  

If an indirect question is questioned through the user, then the question itself becomes a metaphysical question to choose from.

In the event a question is said through alternate means, consider the quantitative/qualitative state of the question at the time being; as it may be resolved by asking the question in a subconscious level indeed.  

Superficial means tends to seek fundamental questions to the reality of the state one naturally possesses.  

In the case where the unconscious decides the opportune event to question the conscious reality, one must interpret the means in examination of the intrapersonal mentality.  

If the question is imposed through correlative thought and subliminal expression, then the question itself is related to a parallel conscious state intertwined with the unconscious state of mind of progression.

If the question is relative in combination to the solutions mentioned above becoming apparent, then one has means to ask the question without questioning the question itself in disparate.

Otherwise, the question continues to perplex the question through the continuation of irrelevant questions that one will have thought; creating a treacherous belief so concurrent one could not have fought.

Therefore, is the reality of the question portrayed to the reality you live in or the reality of others? As this poem was conclusive to subtly evoke thought in the questions we construct.

By: Michael M. De La Fuente
The thought of the question was introduced to me whilst reading Carl Jung's book, Man and his Symbols.
Seán Mac Falls May 2014
In mute fields of sun  .  .  .
Angels' wings hum from heaven,
  .  .  .  Flock of swans fly by.
Marlon James Apr 2014
Inside of me It's empty

Inside of me It's verve

Up and down

A heart ******
Rises me in a metaphysical experience,
Oh, excitement!
Marlon James, Porto, Portugal                                                   25-04-2014
Evening Ways Apr 2014
Layman's troubles, you fickle bode,
Who picks apart my breaths incentives,
And hastens my growing old.
Oh why can not you find
But one excuse to leave me,
For if the move was partnered
I'd grin and jump across the sea,
To find a locked up place to hide
Til' you decide to change your mind,
And sure you will,
You have before,
Then came with troubles new;
Searched, and found me hidden beneath the floor.

I hope some day you'll understand
My eyes of darkened shades,
And why they churn a fire burning,
Wishing you would end these days.
Only then will I choose to leap
Across the sea once more.
For a chance to walk on ground not burdened
By my troubles
That burn all open doors.
Evening Ways Apr 2014
Have we yet captured the schemes of our misfortune
A solace granted to us, picketed by our tedious hangups
Oh lost have we been
Wondering the labyrinths halls

Each time we find our steps take us no further
Our stagger is broken
By a light projecting life outside the hallways walls
While envy flaunts it's final solutions
In loo of a future we are attempting to grasp
Our steps move us further once again

Now, just as forgotten times before
Do I see that the peaces of our scheme
Are collected gradually over time
and my mind is the cage for their housing

The fragments are fluid and known
To our past selves on a distant day
But now I live life again from a stance of their recall
While at the same time tempted
To step back to the labyrinths halls
Evening Ways Mar 2014
Dance
My lady of doom
Show me how to
Walk
Away from the sun
As I outrun the day
I'm running out of solutions
You gave
Still you would dance
Unto the sound of my name
But I outran the grave

Take take my life
Lady of light
Oh show me how
So we may
Break through the night
Lover so bright
Oh keep me sound
Wonderer leading the way

Grace
Mine haunting became
Who walks in the garden
Maybe you
My lady of doom
Dressed in my eulogy
No distant sense of illusion will save
My face a painting, a slave
It's canvass I burned
Oh oh I outran the grave

Take take the days oh please take me
Lady leading the way
Oh show me how
Don't waste duration
After facing the day
Just maybe to save
Me by you name
I have outran the grave

Oh lady of light

Break through the night
Ascend beyond mourning  
Travel not blindly the garden waits to be burned
My lady of light out run with me kindly
Only In knowing that life is solemnly earned
Travel Not Blindly

— The End —