Many would be able to tell about their ways of living. Explain who they are and what they want to achieve in their lives. Like any other normal person. Just like any other NORMAL person.

But what about those that are anything but normal. Those, or just me.

My life is but a poem written in a language not known to man. For only God is able to understand. Not even myself understand what is written. All I do is live inside this poem.

Existing only on the lines were such words were written. Living each day a different word, until it reaches the final period.

A mystery to be unraveled little by little without my consent. Not able to understand what is the next word. All I know is this plane, written with words.

A poem written to His likings. A complication normal beings cannot understand, and will never know. Nor I will be able to decipher, only to exist, live each word, and question nothing at all.


This is my life, beyond an enigma. A complication written to not be guessed by humans.
Ti's why I cannot say, who am I, and what are my goals. My dreams are but a shadow, a cloud that was dissolved as quickly as it was formed.

My life is a poem, that not even I can control.