*The Cure of I*

"I," pristine and pure, Was clouded by ignorance, A disease called mind— Its symptoms clear, its grip intense. Wants and fears, sadness and hate, Worldly cures could not heal; Until wisdom bright and transcendent Lifted the veil, revealed what’s real. At last, "I," pure and free, In peace, in bliss, eternally. --- I hope this shorter version captures the essence you're looking for!