My Soul sits absorbed
Deep within my being
It brings motivation and meaning
To what becomes seen

Everything I am or do
Materializes from that place
Yet my soul remains unseen
In its internal space

The beauty
The perfection
Contained inside

The purity
The grace
Forced to hide

Behind a mask of language
And a cloak of beliefs
My Soul attempts to express
Yet it is taken by a thief

It bends and distorts
Who it wants me to be
It twists and denies
Who is the real me

Through no fault of another
This crime takes place
It is the imperfect patterns
Of our human race

Words, language
And systems of faith
The vehicles of expression
Of this internal space

Are taken as the truth
Instead of this great seed
That was planted and grows
Through some greater deed

Look deep into my eyes
And there you will see
The purity of God
Concealed in me

Now I am tired
And I must sleep
Or through my own laziness
I will cause others to weep

For I too am fooled
By the patterns of being
That cause me to think
What’s seen is what’s seeing