Souls For Sale

What if the core of subjectivity were decentered, constituted by fetishized objects that surround? Commodities are, after all, metaphysically imbued... "Spirit is a Bone." - G.W.F. Hegel.

Reason bids that I see through,
The emptiness by fickle blinds-
What I hold, while matter true,
Bears no breathing thought behind.

Such say those that soundly sleep,
To decide at the break of day,
Which to lose and what to keep?
'Mong the assets on display.

Mesmerized yet I behold,
Unbeknownst to wiser minds,
O' sweet grace of object souls!
Animate my endless night-

The old windchime at tempest's wake,
The cuckoo-clock, if slightly late,
Calls to arms the guitar's spark,
Through rust and dust the voices 'twine-

And hark back to distant shores,
Hands that stretch to thus abode;
O' what stays of truest self...
Subject not to their silent binds?