My ego is my oxygen.
Without it, I cannot survive.
My every cell of consciousness
Is energised a certain way
That these material cells remain
A unity that’s labelled I.
My ego is my oxygen.
Without it, nothing kindles me.
No emberred insecurity.
No arson of resentment, rage.
No bonfire warmth of empathy.
No cooking flame of artistry.
No forge for casting character.
No engine for ambition, drive.
No torch for visioned enterprise.
My ego is my oxygen.
Without it, I would never die.
It rusts my mettle latticework,
Erodes my grit to verdigris,
And tarnishing my temperance,
It putrefies my wasting wit.
Minakhi Misra 