What is this beast that stalks my journey
And lurks in the shadows of my campfire at night?
What is the shadow that catches my eye
When I glance quickly over my shoulder?
What is it of self I see in a madman?
Who is this self watching me from within?
And why do the images of this strange world
Occasionally break up and slip out of focus?
My soul knows the secret of all of these things ...
That the beast and the shadow are my own inner knowing
Of what the madman is painfully aware ...
Of what the observer within me is seeing ...
That this world is no more
Than a grand illusion,
No more real
Than my ego\'s
Conception
Of me.