Why The Soulless Are So

Corpses that hold on to the shed of life
With their steel hooks of breath
Stare unblinking
Uncomprehending in the face of the soulful.
They do not recognise,
Much less distinguish between
The Old Souls,  the Vibrant,  the Erudite.
They cannot,
Because they do not have
To call their own,
A soul that fills them,
A soul that fulfills.
The soul they came with to Earth
Got lost
In the streets
Of lifelessness.

The third time I bare my mind. This is becoming an addiction,  the idea that someone out there might be reading my mind. 


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