Dark Whispers

I once heard a whisper.
I recall it said:

"How many lives will I have to die,
and how many deaths will I have to live
to let me be me?

And

how many lights will I have to hide in the shadows,
and how many shadows
will I have to vanish in the lights to look like my incorporeal corpse? "

In the end, I figured out that the silhouette of the voice was me, as well as my confusions and my existential thoughts.
My voice was me. It was the voice from the tomb and from the time outside the time, where the night is the day and the day becomes the night with all its furniture, with all its evil furniture, like the sky and the stars that simulates the fake light.

Now I know that I am no one else but me, unless my voice wants me to be another person.
A fake one. Another confusion or maybe another night.