Crystals Of Separation
All too much and contained within many, is this question-
Do we all share a common soul?
What guarantees its existence-
What is it that would prove its inimitability-
The soul that we share
For like a scud of dust and derision, it is-
That life, does pass over us
Left with, as always, nothing
A soul shared, is all that we can shed
Impose on, what else can we-
The very same derision
Left with a question,
We would rather treat to be unreal
And juxtapose our heads around the fleeting romanticism offered
'Have I done enough? '