The Still Soul

Amidst all the chaos

All the faces that streak by,

All the words that brush the soul,

For a fleeting moment,

Before they join the cacophony,

The face of one soul stays still,

Or maybe thy soul is a puppeteer,

Stringing my eyes to thyself,

The spoken lines of wisdom,

Satiate momentarily my hunger for truth

Truth a perception,

Yet in those solemn lines I find truer truth,

My lust for the map of your soul,

I fear I might never find it,

I have no intentions of claiming thee,

Just seeing,

Only desirous of sinking in its aura of freedom,

Rare freedom of a soul,

A soul that Fears not the burning shackles of night’s devils,

Or the silent shadows of the day’s angels,

I wonder if that one face,

That one swish of breath that touches me,

Amidst the heavy panting of many,

Many faces blurred in the smoke of the breaths,

But the eyes of the face that haunt my soul,

Wonder if they recognize me,

Wonder if they feel my presence in the grandeur of their aura.

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Categories: life | 11 Comments

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11 thoughts on “The Still Soul

  1. My apologies if I am mistaken my dark angel, but I am seeing two of the same poems, Or are you testing to see if I am indeed reading? 😉

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  2. Sometimes that is all we ever wish for, that one glimpse, but it leaves us wanting more. Did we see in that other what we thought we did? And of course, the more painful question: did they see us?

    Very nicely written.

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    • Very, Its a torment, the wanting and the questions. but its still worth it, better than not a glimpse at all at times:) Thank you for your kind words:)

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      • Rereading your poem and your response to my comment, I was wondering if you read something I posted a couple of weeks ago called “A World Away”? Your poem is much better, but they do share a few themes. If you haven’t read it and don’t have time, don’t worry about it, I was just curious.

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      • Hi Trent, I am certainly going to read it:)

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