The Soul Market

On the still days of clarity

The unimportance of the trivial reveal

We sell soul for 40 hours

Hello to the end of it all

Be me say you to you

Your insides say I am a muse

Your outside says I am society rules

And then comes the end of it all

Alone you will go you must know

So here and now you must blow forth

Create magnificent things

Die not full at the end of it all

Blister, palp, shudder you

harness the udder

Grab hold and control

Before the end of it all

A gift not shared have you

Makes end a frightful lot

Empty bag of thee

And realize the end is not at all

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s