Monday, January 29, 2007

Nascence

Simplistically I walk through slyly hidden rooms
Known only to the walls by which they are contained
Silently they drip of things that were once lost
Of all that’s borrowed, yet nothing that is gained

For a thing gained is rarely left behind
‘Tis taken by its owner from its birth room
And carried through the halls of all the world
Joined by thoughts still growing in the womb

So one is never left with feelings of the soul
For once birthed, they often leave us for all time
Remembrance of their touch is long forgotten
And the slouch of hours releases them in prime

Try not to find old pieces of your soul
For when once lost, do not want to be found
Look only for what lurks and can be borrowed
For our flitting souls sought never to be bound