Soul Lost Poem by alastair wallace

Yet again I walk on the lake of fire
A miraculous composition of my diminishing desire
My profound discovery in my skinless attire
A breath taking and life risking respire
The joy worth destruction
And pain worth instruction
But nothing I control, so my life I conceal
Under a mask of vain compliments, my life I spill
Never do I cry over spilt milk
I mop my life residues with silk
Thou stand in boldness
Thou warm in coldness
Thou provides in honest
But thou lives…soulless!
-alastair-