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!