Surreal

You! The one surreal,

Fresh out from the pages of my life's poignant fairy tale,

Smirking and knitting melancholy with the threads of false hope,

Often, I cry, and yet I always fail to realize which one are you:

A figment of my superego or an egocentric sympathizing yourself?

You! The marked one – the one surreal,

Know not of a simple balm that can soothe my complex tormenting pain,

I ask – why not rather reveal what true malice you hide in your other hand?

For once come out clean, o! dual-natured being – and let your true face be unveiled.

You! The surreal one – in true human existence,

Holding a rickety thin umbrella beneath a raging merciless hail,

What fun do you get by procrastinating truth, and framing this world as uncouth?

Come out and show who you are, don't you long to meet my real self?

And so, if you ever long to meet me, in my true originality,

Shed off that translucent duality: serving nectar to your foes, and poison to me!

I'm not a saint, and certainly not a Nostradamus, yet honesty is one quality I possess.

And thus, I can tell – what, how, and when, can be figured if we remain our honest selves,

Why do you need an alibi as your veil, when you can live, laugh, and pray as an honest real being?