My identity

In me if you look with your eyes,

Nothing can you see,

Nothing can you find;

Stained in black dye of skin,

With bulging eye balls,

Dark growing beards and

Non- uniform tufts of moustache,

Pointed tip of nose,

With fading hair from the forehead,

And stammering speech

I fit into the description of any observer.

Yet if you listen to me and

My speech

You shall fathom me well;

I am that soul, which exists with hurry,

With a dream at heart

And a conscience that rules.

Sometimes I become like a aggressive dog

Like growling at a found bone;

Or if you observe carefully,

I become like an enlightened saint

With a kindness at heart!

Well…I have both the extremities

Yet I am not only what you see,

I am many more within.