Maaya

Twelve miles away from home
Drifting on the water, alone,
Trying to straighten the knots inside
That profess that life is a lie

Here, halfway between the earth and the sky
A speck of life in tranquility I lie
Who I am, I do not know
The axiom of existence ebbs in flow

The questions keep shouting inside my head
I am no closer to answering any of them yet
The reality of illusion strikes me so
I can't accept it, yet I can't deny it anymore.

Engulfed in a shroud of feel and sense,
What if Life were really not an existence
But a dream too long, on a prescribed map:
An imaginary game of control, a trap?