My soul is but a visitor,

And as I march across

These endless roads

Of cremated earth

I know they are not my own,


My soul is merely a boarder,

Finding shelter in this rented outfit

That I’ve slowy mastered to control,

Yet even as many years pass

I’ve never forgotten

That one day I will have to return it

From the world of which it came,


My soul is a son of distant stars in the heavens

Yet I am grounded

By invisible chains at my feet,

Growing tighter with each sun

That falls beneath the edges of my reach,


My soul is an unfinished portrait,

That is, until your soul spilt on to mine,

And ever since, they have been dancing,

Across blank canvases in the skies

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