Sometimes, people smile with you, share laughter with you, fly to places with you, trust you, jeer you, mock you and beat you to the ground. But there are also those people who have compassion towards you, and pray that you have a nice life, even though you don't consider them your friend and barely speak their name. And there are those you weep with you. Today, it occured to me. These people who hate or like my soul...do they think they know me? Or are they just amused of what I look like ten miles from where I stand? Do they really know me?

You see, I have realized that I am shrouded in mystery. But I have never contemplated on how thick that shroud is. And sometimes, my own mystery clouds my own wisdom. Is this even possible? Sometimes, I think that I have been MORTALIZED by being with people. I am not who I used to be. Hence, I am no longer the soul I used to know. Therefore the shroud has now become ME. And what was once shrouded is just a tale waiting to be told.

Who am I? Am I the rainbow you see streched over the weary skies after a storm? Some people believe that I am. Some people believe I am not. But I believe they will NEVER know that I have no value like the colors of the rainbow. I believe that they will NEVER know that there is no magic like the old tales tell about the rainbow. I believe that they will never believe the existence of the PRISM that is ME. Because what they wanted to believe is that a rainbow is all THERE IS and nothing more. And I, the PRISM will be nothing. Left in the corners of oblivion. Who am I? Am I really the prism? I believe that's all I am and all I'll ever be. And if the world would believe that they see a rainbow, I'll just leave the magic at them and I'll just live in oblivion. Awaiting for the day that one soul would come to see the source of that rainbow. The PRISM that is ME...