My soul teaches other direct souls
To dissect the dogmatic opinions.
To anguish is the anger, and few have
Lords above themselves, to align time.
The souls of some of the world's opinions
Directly dissolve the ashes into water,
Then when the briny wastes are eluded
We are the souls begotten due to godly
Whistles, sounds of the past so sacred.
Knowing the briny wasteland is of the seas
A blend of wine and destiny, strength in
Adversity, the opposite of wealth, and the
Contortion of the one overpowering.
The angry man will lose all hope, so he
Surrenders to whole populations,
Of this world of opinion and beliefs far-ranging.
Topic(s) of this poem: souls