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Description
My head is full of clouded thoughts in which I seem to sink
And soon I will be swallowed up in all the thoughts I think.
No longer can I grasp the truths I used to think I knew;
Replaced with doubt and falsities which I must now sort through,
And so to cast aside my doubt, and find what’s really true,
I’ll throw out all uncertainty until truth’s found anew.
And should I find a single thing of which there is no doubt;
I’ll count myself most fortunate in bringing this truth out.

My mind presents fictitious visions, of figure, place and thing,
That I perceive with senses, and the falsities they bring.
These then must be tossed aside, and all objects with them,
But where then does this leave me, if not of flesh and limb?
Does this mean that I as well do not really exist?
There must be some factual thing, of which I do consist.
Am I not something that’s real, and capable of thought?
Or is it merely God who makes me think the things I aught?

Still there is some being that continues to deceive;
And if it’s true I am deceived, I exist because I believe.
So as long as I can contemplate whether I do or not,
I can say with certainty that I exist because of thought.
Thus I can conclude from this, at least one certainty,
The fact that I think proves that there is some ‘me’.

But what am I, that is certain, for I cannot say a man,
Such a claim would only lead to more questions then began.
All things I once thought to be a part of what I am,
Are merely objects I perceived that now I see were scam.
The only thing attached to me, with upmost certainty,
Is that to think, question or doubt is inseparable from me.
And so to answer what I am in a way that’s certain and true
I am a thing that thinks, and I exist because I do.

Description
My head is full of clouded thoughts in which I seem to sink
And soon I will be swallowed up in all the thoughts I think.
No longer can I grasp the truths I used to think I knew;
Replaced with doubt and falsities which I must now sort through,
And so to cast aside my doubt, and find what’s really true,
I’ll throw out all uncertainty until truth’s found anew.
And should I find a single thing of which there is no doubt;
I’ll count myself most fortunate in bringing this truth out.

My mind presents fictitious visions, of figure, place and thing,
That I perceive with senses, and the falsities they bring.
These then must be tossed aside, and all objects with them,
But where then does this leave me, if not of flesh and limb?
Does this mean that I as well do not really exist?
There must be some factual thing, of which I do consist.
Am I not something that’s real, and capable of thought?
Or is it merely God who makes me think the things I aught?

Still there is some being that continues to deceive;
And if it’s true I am deceived, I exist because I believe.
So as long as I can contemplate whether I do or not,
I can say with certainty that I exist because of thought.
Thus I can conclude from this, at least one certainty,
The fact that I think proves that there is some ‘me’.

But what am I, that is certain, for I cannot say a man,
Such a claim would only lead to more questions then began.
All things I once thought to be a part of what I am,
Are merely objects I perceived that now I see were scam.
The only thing attached to me, with upmost certainty,
Is that to think, question or doubt is inseparable from me.
And so to answer what I am in a way that’s certain and true
I am a thing that thinks, and I exist because I do.