Beneath this of what you see,
is the born, concealed significance of me,
Wondering what becomes of this,
this matter of space with a lively twist.
My cryptic is unknown to most,
the face, the words, the deeds, the ghost.
Lost of my purpose, may not be found
Until no breath, no move, no sound.
My cryptic is hidden, submerged in me.
A moment in endless time will be.
Success isn't what I accomplish at this peak,
But when I depart, my cryptic, the world will see.