The soul
The soul
Playing with the language of the soul,
is like playing with subtle winds.
To catch and keep them,
exspress and breath them,
is like a calm lake,
but full of sheerness of life.
Nothing can capture the soul.
Then it will be gone.
And we’ll be back in the rough
with emptyness, allone.
By José-Helène Beentjes aka ReBelle
Reacties op dit gedicht
| kerima ellouise: | Maandag, februari 09, 2009 21:41 |
| if the soul speaks, the words can only be heard by the heart, a breath away from the eyes mooi Rebelle liefs kerima ellouise |
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| Lily May Parker: | Maandag, februari 09, 2009 17:59 |
| Nicely written ReBelle love Lily May xxxx |
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Over dit gedicht
| Auteur: ReBelle | 
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| Gecontroleerd door: benji | ||
| Gepubliceerd op: 09 februari 2009 | ||
| Thema's: | ||