Mystic theories, swirling in the mind,
A cult of self-identification, some may find.
In this world of thoughts,they combine,
But clarity eludes, like whispers in the brine,

Deep in contemplation, the seekers dive,
Grasping at answers that seem to thrive.
But truth remains elusive, like a flickering flame,
As mystic theories dance, an enigmatic game.

Lost in the labyrinth, they wander astray,
Chasing elusive notions, day after day.
Each theory a thread, woven in confusion,
Leading to dead ends, an endless illusion.

Self-identification, a quest for the soul,
Yet boundaries blur, as the ego takes its toll.
Caught in the web of identity's veil,
The seekers ponder, their efforts to avail.

But in this quest, the truth may be concealed,
For self-identification cannot be fully revealed.
For the self is vast, beyond any definition,
A fluid existence, defying restriction.

So let the mystic theories swirl and sway,
But remember, they're fragments along the way.
Seek not in theories, but in your own heart,
Embrace the unknown, where wisdom imparts.

In the realm of self, the answers may lie,
In moments of stillness, where truth may sigh.
Release the need for cults and grand design,
And find your own path, where authenticity shines.