Soul For Sale

 How much is a soul worth? One so free-spirited but bound by what society throws. A poetic muse with an ocean of dreams in her mind, tied to those dreams like an anchor. The only thing that life can throw while waiting for some fairytale rescue - something worth believing, worth holding on to, to keep from drowning in a rough ocean sea. My eyes wide open to a cruel diminishing world, my own thoughts and emotions that take over me, outspoken truths that no one wants to hear. Silenced but Artistic, drenched with creativity. But holding my own sorrows tightly near, as the Sun and the Moon fight daily in my mind for what the day may bring tonight.

 

 

So I ask the question...how much is a soul worth?

Reviews

[mattavelli]

More great thoughts.
Awesome writing!!!
Take care.

[.]

Now, this was really amazing, hun!! I was very impressed by the way you described the truth of the 'world', and how hard it is to live in it. I just wish so much that the world was free, and that people would accept you for who you are (the real person inside all of us). Great with this!

Mikey

[JC Fox]

Your soul is worth however much the church and state feels it is. Great write

[Trisha]

wow. I almost thought you were speaking of me in this one. lol I can totally relate to every word in this beautiful written piece of artistic expression. I feel that I am a free spirit drowning in societies ocean waiting for prince charming to set me free. Well written.

[Forest Green]

Interesting line 'tied to those dreams like an anchor...'

Very gentle treatment of the conflict between desires and rules...or that is what it seems to me to present.

Nice, original approach.

Thank you for the send.

Forest

[jeRRy.whaLLey]

Not marble, nor the gilded monuments
Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme;
But you shall shine more bright in these contents
Than unswept stone besmear'd with sluttish time.
When wasteful war shall statues overturn,
And broils root out the work of masonry,
Nor Mars his sword nor war's quick fire shall burn
The living record of your memory.
'Gainst death and all-oblivious enmity
Shall you pace forth; your praise shall still find room
Even in the eyes of all posterity
That wear this world out to the ending doom.
So, till the judgement that yourself arise,
You live in this, and dwell in lover's eyes --

Here Shakespeare alludes to the conceits of men for their sluttish powers where in reality the Lover is immortalized in the beloved and those power addicted war mongers cast in dead stone are the lies they tell themselves -- for by Love you live in my eyes and not in the dead stone carved by wars as sluttish power adores - dead forms cannot hold that which roils in passions way as Love can only beat in a living Heart today -- it is an ancient plaint which at once rises against the arrogance of ignorance that men create these stone images of themselves from conceits of power when in the eyes of Love these things are meaningless for in the Garden of Hearts where Love grows such distinctions as you and I and we are unnecessary -- we create because we are Lovers and thy Soul is priceless by that verity -- write on Beautiful Tragic one with eyes wide open daring to see