Whatever there is, at the depths of the mind

Do they exist outside as well? 

Or, could they be some parallel entity that a mind is unwilling to reveal

With an excessively curious world, where they could take them away

Crafted with rudimentary tools and shape them oddly 

There’s no chance of consummate care while handling such rare gems

All that is natural, stays immaculate with eternity’s grace

No grimy hands can come and grapple with that parallel reality

That which is meant to exist at depths, in silence, are rare and precious

Only sincere introspection can ask them for clarity

There is no discrimination, just a reality explained to the seeker


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