There is a soul in you, in me, in every being that shall ever be.
That one untouched being ever free, veiled by many satin hard to see.
The coal is alive fogged by the smoke, a being by any weapon shall never be broke.
Open the window, the wind shall gently stroke, and such freedom shall be revoke.
The soul knows alike, the bright and dark, that a poem is indeed a random ink mark.
Such soul shall see the beauty stark, that every other soul in the world has a spark.
Love shall bloom like roses in dew, and the spring will be back anew.
Our body hosts the soul for years very few, let it sail being the good crew.
That one untouched being ever free, veiled by many satin hard to see.
The coal is alive fogged by the smoke, a being by any weapon shall never be broke.
Open the window, the wind shall gently stroke, and such freedom shall be revoke.
The soul knows alike, the bright and dark, that a poem is indeed a random ink mark.
Such soul shall see the beauty stark, that every other soul in the world has a spark.
Love shall bloom like roses in dew, and the spring will be back anew.
Our body hosts the soul for years very few, let it sail being the good crew.