Mektup 121: My Self

I.
My heart's a cage, it can't contain this ache I hide from sight,
I swear it's not from these lands, nor from these mountains' height.
It springs from my mind's labyrinth, the deepest ocean's gloom,
Beyond all that, and yet within, a thing seals my doom.

II.
It makes my very flesh creep, a knife stuck in my chest,
Brings mediocre feelings, from which I find no rest.
I swear it turns the taste of simple bread and water sour,
A heavy weight that stirs the memory of an evil hour.

III.
How can a body bear this? One endlessly does die!
A self beyond my self: Is it inside, or is it nigh?
It makes my very flesh creep, not of these lands, not here,
Not from these mountains: brings mediocre feelings, dark and drear.

IV.
A self that knows me better than I ever could, is near.