Most Souls
Most souls are born to serveWhile a few seek but to rule
It takes a lot of nerve
To be in love with you
That's what I was born to do,
Some say they want it all
Others look for what is not there
A mirror of The Fall
I pose for you to brush your hair
Everyone must be, somewhere,
Souls are shifting restless sleep
Eyes are lifting from the deep
Dreams born onto a shallow shore
Whoever knows what was before?
That's what I was born to do
To be in love with you
It takes a lot of nerve,
While a few seek but to rule
Most souls are born to serve . . .
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
Read 916 times
Written on 2016-05-20 at 01:14
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Kathy Lockhart |
