Why you want to decorate me as an exotic art amongst the riches, in your hall of fame,
I wish to spread like the insignificant wildflowers through the vast reaches of the great mountains,
Why you wish to confine my thoughts into tiny space of your limited repositories,
I am only collecting my pieces through poetry,
Long lost in the cosmos for eternity, and,
When I am whole in this enigmatic universe,
I won’t be read or heard, I would be seen!
Why do you think my words bring brightness to your life,
While they have originally birthed from a never ending darkness.
Why do you think I express unexplored depths of ocean,
While I myself have not measured the extremity of my true potential.
Why you think, it is me who scribe stories narrated by the universe,
I told you at that moment, I am not the trivial me, probably possessed by spirits roaming between countless multiverse.
Why do you want to prove that I am something,
While I know, I am good by being nothing,
For if you make me something I will have boundaries,
But if I am nothing, I am truly limitless!