Soul

Wind, ocean, Sky
The first ruminants of the seasons
A world full of nothingness
Making something of nothing is our reason

Faith, war, money
As humans invaded the plains
Alliances creating our nation
Yet, what truly does one gain

We fought for much, each gaining little
As solitary satisfaction makes us individual
Bliss is paradise, people nonexistent
It matters that your soul converges

A corrupted soul makes a miserable being
When we seek new, what are we seeking
We're simply wearing mask, forging a new task
Our punishments are soulless lives, without meaning

Reviews

[Abderrahmane Dakir]

I love it so much. Thanks for sharing.