Reaching The Anattá

How can it be?
How can a thing change so much?
Deprived of my sleep
I was but a hollow husk.

Numb to the bone
I'm stripping of all memories
Pure, yet alien
Capable to feel only physical pain.

Mimicking the purposefulness of everyday routine
I finally found the ground beneath my feet.

And although I'm stained with mud
at least I can stop drowning
I can almost reach to the surface
Of this ocean of ink around me.

The clarity sprouts in me
I'll have to confront the hungry spirit
I know he never left for good
He is weakened by its age.

He told me who he was
And although I always suspected
I dared not to believe.

He is a god
He is a beggar
He's once been rich
and now he's me.

Suddenly I recall
The cause of my gaping wounds
Memories unfold
Every wound has its meaning
The ancient hole in my chest
Awakens the forgotten passion.

There is nothing as sad as a book left unfinished
And that is why this is my farewell.

Now I remember the moment
when the Queen drew her last breath
My mind is without distraction
I know how this has to end
She showed me how to love
Being one with the hungry spirit
I know how to end myself
The void is what she has left me
With void I must merge.