Poetry: The Soul
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Every waking moment lost
In a mist and frost
The labyrinth of world’s lies
Truth is remembered as goodbyes
Where do I escape?
There is no cavity or empty space
There is only one constant pace
It is the beating of mankind’s appalling
Thoughts and schemes calling
They ring out like melodies
Of jealousies
Soon we shall be as statues
Standing idle with our backs to understanding
Nodding our heads without comprehending
Where is the way out?
If only I were an eagle
I could fly high above the mind that is feeble
Perched up on that wall
Then could I distinguish all
I would see the path then
No longer a dead end
There the path would lie
Never shifting like the grain of rye
No more footprints