When a mind awake is there and not here,
there, where attention is on what is not,
on what cannot be, in delusionís sphere
where there is only a make believe thought,
there, where a mawkish life view is relished,
beneath the tempting, deceptive mirage
of a transient pie in the sky nourished
by the bile of a self-hatred barrage;
then what does the self realize when itís told
that what it is, is just not good enough,
to be oneself is, at best, but foolís gold,
at worst, something vile one must promptly snuff?
If you are not here, now, present, to breath,
then you are there, then, past, living in death.