Lies so much pain of which one barley allows to show...
Oh, in those deep crevices of the soul...
Lies undiscovered territory...
Or territory discovered and kept in a form of purgatory...
How well does one know it's own soul...?
How many acknowledge the very existence of a soul...?
Especially, if within one's soul, there lies a very large whole...
Where no deep crevices lie...only deep darkness, darkness and sadness, that only desires to be hidden away...
The soul is mysterious, the soul is it's own master, the soul charters it's own waters...
The mystery of the soul wishes not be tied to the dock of any bay...
The soul holds it's own secrets and it keeps it's own council...
The soul is a chamber of the very acknowledgment of life and of death...
In the deep crevices of the soul lies your mystery, lies your questions, and lies your answers...
In the deep crevices of the soul...
From my soul to yours,
Maria Joan Juarez Hidalgo Beam (Boheme)
Musical Selection: Beethoven Silence
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