Above the Sun


Where’s the soul going?
After our bodies have been dusted
Eternal beings living momentarily
Vanity searched, vanity acquired
But it’s all sand to the desert
A million there, a few spread out
Rumbling, waiting for the rainy days
When the wind comes, it seems like
The heat was just a mirage
Making fools of those who thirst,
But refused to reach further to the fountain
Where’s my thread, my soul, my whole?
The one I need to walk with, through this storm covered with dust

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