Innermost wish

My mind is a very fickle and sensitive instrument of change
It projects outward a world that is filled with images strange
The process of creation is a constant endeavor, never ceases
It happens almost without effort, creating variety of universes

For a long while I was gripped with fear about the world outside
I felt that I lacked control and in life was missing my stride
I compared myself to others in same league and suffered as result
My days were spent in illusions, and nights were without rest

My main focus was to conform and meld into the mold of society
But yet there was a need to excel and rise above mediocrity
There were conflicting pulls in my heart and thus a great stress
My greatest foe was my own self that was always under duress

It was difficult to identify this external audience that judged
I have yet to meet at least one of its members and to be impressed
Despite I try to cater to the needs of this amorphous group's wish
And in doing so I lose my individuality and become puppet on a stick

Such is the power exerted by this need to conform, it numbs mind
Rituals are enacted daily driven by need to compete in daily grind
When we perchance see a protagonist who dares to rebel and differ
We become one with the faceless group and try to make him suffer

When we deign to suspend our need to judge, we still mind's chatter
A blessed quietness descends on our psyche and we become centered
This is the prelude to our journey into a state of immense bliss
Stepping out on which we will fulfil our heart's innermost wish