It's a funny thing
This what is called
A truth
When was it to my advantage
Never
Nothing at all
It cannot stay there
Where you think you are

My seeing is not my discovery
No concept and it's how absurd
At the same time
What unfolds is my ease
No playing here
Nothing independent

Will moves
And
I stay put with it
I see me returning
To me
Not from an outside
Neither from an inside