Courage and ego lived beneath my skin,
Both clashed and tussled to be the kingpin.
Self admiration had consumed me from within,
This disease made me sick, it made me thin.
But I had a conscience that was full of fire,
It was disciplined and restrained, free from all desires.
The seamless brawl seemed to be an unending scream,
It played a provoking tune with a vexing theme.
The inner heart was perplexed with the chorus tune,
It became restless like a deflating balloon.
All the forces played a part in contaminating my inner self,
The poor skin felt like an overloaded shelf.
– Muzaffar Ahmed