In my disquietude, I considered:
has the soul a second half
which by birth was rent from its self
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is my soul like the page of a book torn in half, so full of words yet empty of meaning till the missing piece restored Ah! lovely write.
Awww the soulmates, our second half... Are we really meant to have? Could the restoration be made maybe with beautiful creations such as this poem? A soul might built itself back creating a new beautiful whole self from tormenting wonders, or so would I hope? ...