The Unknown

An unknown set to find his purpose and meaning of life.

The Unknown

Birthed on a common day,
Through a common way,
At a common place,
And a common origin.

He looked at his arms,
For what?
His strong legs,
To where?

He went and searched,
For whom he shared grounds,
For what his purpose are,
For what he is.

He met the first,
It had similar eyes,
Yet different hair,
And different hands.

You are not me, it said,
A part of me,
Is a part of you,
But we are no same pea.

He met the second,
With equal hands,
But different legs,
And different heads.

You are not me, it said,
A part of me,
Is a part of you,
But we are no same pea.

Then he met the third,
A voice with no sound,
Warmth with no physic,
Familiarity within strangeness.

We have none equal,
But a part of me,
Is a part of you,
And no two are the same.

What am I?
He asked,
Who am I?
He pondered.

In the mirror,
Is who you are,
In your mind,
Is what you are.

Until sought,
Until acknowledged,
Stays it as we called,
The unknown.



The End

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