We love the numbers, stories of the past,
The questions asked, the knowledge we pursue.
Yet in a world of mysteries so vast,
You still don’t know what makes you truly you.
We learn, we think, we change along the way,
Our minds become what yesterday could not.
And yet we often fail to see each day,
How everything we are may be forgot.
Our cells renew, our atoms rearrange,
The mind, the heart, the matter we’re composed of.
And everything we know is bound to change,
Including all the things we think we’re made of.
So who are you, beneath the passing years?
The silent witness of your waking mind?
A thousand memories, a thousand fears,
A world of influences intertwined.
Your consciousness could fade away tonight,
And you would never know that it was gone.
A frightening thought beneath the fading light,
A question lingering until the dawn.
A curious paradox beneath the sun,
An existential doubt when darkness falls.
And when the day is over, all is done,
One question echoes through these endless halls:
Who are you, when everything must change?
And what makes you extraordinary and strange?