In realms unknown, the shared essence roams,
No gifts to grant, no truths to own.
Here lies the crux: all experience, but a guise,
Illusions of here, there, and the ties that bind.
Behold the appearance of subject-object veils,
Where "I" claims alpha, omega, in ego's trails.
Yet veiled within this self-proclaimed reign,
Lies the truth of no real start, nor end's refrain.
"I am," it proclaims, a guise of life's breath,
Concealing the essence, veiled in death.
"I am this” it claims, death deferred,
Seeking life's embrace, from death deterred.
Yet in this grand illusion's sweep,
No life, no death, in timeless keep.
A play of nothingness, unfurling wide,
Neither alive nor dead, in the is-ness’ stride.
Indescribable, unknowable, this cosmic sea,
Where meaning, purpose, fade to plea.
In the endless ebb of what appears to be,
No beginning, no end, in boundless spree.
