Beautiful soul…
I didn’t realize until another being reached out for my piece of writing.
With the corners of her smile,
I caught a glimpse of my soul, that I am a beautiful soul.
That’s what I’m made of…
When pen and paper draw such beauty on a face.
How much more can I do to awake such happiness, immersed in my being?
I always searched for ways.
To give just a little beat of me.
That’s who I live for, finally now I know that’s who I am.
I’m a beautiful soul.
I bring joy without wealth.
Make magic without wand.
Music with no sound.
I’m an instrument of the Highest.
That pays a price for being true.
For in this world
Happiness is a pursuit, gained only through constant rearrangement of oneself..
To fit a world created through concepts of low intuition.
Only to lose bits and pieces of myself.
To a world that fail to accommodate this soul.
For it no longer portrays my indigenous truth.
My beautiful Soul…
I age rapidly before my time.
Wrinkled skin wrapped in my skeletal bones with lines folded in bundles of threads.
I embark on journey masked in loneliness.
That’s what I live for, finally now I know that’s what I am.
Beautiful Soul…
I didn’t realize how careless I’ve become,
Until another soul reached for my piece of thinking.
Beautiful Soul
What have I made of you…?
wow! a grewat poem indeed, magic without wand, music without sound; now THATS poetry!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
10 for this marvelous poem.