WHERE DO RIVERS GO?

Right here at the balcony,
there rings in my head a mys-te-ry.
Can I know the sound of my voice
when I hear it in my head?

When I sojourn in the wilderness,
roaming around with no compass.
Can I trust my head
when it says turn right or left?

When I look at the mirror,
I see a figure appear with vigor.
A stranger with many networks.
Can you introduce yourself?

In my private space,
I try to dissect my mind.
How can my mind control my mind.
Am I tricking myself?

It is obvious to see.
I am nothing without my head.
Can I liken myself to a headless river
that knows the way?

Where do rivers go?
Do they ever miss their way?
Do they get confused like when my
head fights with my head?

I am my head and my head is me.
All I am is my head.
My body fulfills my head's wishes.
Who am I without my head?

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