How could men ever feel alone, when enveloped by this substance;
an invisible mantle made for his body; like the mourn of a dove who just lost her love.
Something of which he can never get enough and yet, is constantly discarding.
And how is it that we feel the lack, when everything around us seems to exist
for the only purpose
for the only purpose of leading up
for the only purpose of leading up to that kiss.
But this force is certainly more;
for every time the air goes into the lungs, tiny bits of grief latch on and spring out from the tongue!
All for the purpose of making their way back into a world, who is eager
to hear the story
to hear the story of the soul
to hear the story of the soul who risked it all
not to be
not to be alone
not to be alone.