Tag Archives: imperfect

My Ego Death

I am more than the sum of my parts,
More than this limiting human form.
My ego death, each one before it,
Are just pieces of me that die.
I am something new each day,
Each sun that rises has a thing new to say.
There will be darkness mixed with light,
The something new could be imperfect, it might.
With briefly nothing to adore,
My ego death will find me waiting,
And I won’t be me, anymore.