Soul

There’s a turning mirror of glass and stone,
And forever gazing and lost is your own,
Your spirit encased and undone in the light,
The luminous dwellings of living at night,
And cry to the air in a soundless repeat,
To cherish the nothings of living complete,
Turning, still burning, the glass and the stone,
Your hope, your heart, your soul is your own.

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