Souls

Souls

Swirling around, smashed to the ground,
Lives now but bloody stains upon the rocks.
Smile to frown, turn it around,
Chains upon the soul, no keys, no locks.

Ropes of Guilt, blemishes of silt,
Black marks upon the Soul.

Constraints of blame, burning Shame.
These vices laid upon the Soul.

The Soul, how droll.
A corrupt and flawed entity,
A murky shoal, a newborn foal.
Our hell, our shell, it fits us, fittingly.

Men of cloth, shrouded sloths,
They spit upon what they preach.
Saviours of the soul, in houses where bells toll,
They seek to teach, with their deceitful speech.

The key to life? The key to strife?
A truthful heart, is this man’s goal?
A twin-edged sword, a bloody knife,
The puzzle of the Soul.