Sixty-Four

Have played so many games

Put on so many disguises

Acted so many different roles

Told so many lies

Have been deceived so many times

That now I am utterly confused

What has become

Of my own integrity

Shattered into so many pieces?

What has become of reality

That shifts in and out?

Or that anchor of sanity

that was to hold myself

Through all the many rough times?

When does the deception cease

And the honesty begin?

To lie is to deceive only oneself

To be deceived is only to lie to oneself

Where do I go to find my lost soul?

How shall I recover myself

Intact in the most complete sense?