the soul, it was never pure or clean – stained by the blood of it’s forefathers and the lies its mothers lay with. implicated in a history it never witnessed – from the fall, to the brotherly blood spilt by another.
tainted by fleshly and selfish advertisements, and smothered with indulgence by the fleshly lumps of men and women for centuries before the magazines and the world wide web.
greened with monetary ambitions by the ungodly and desensitized to the spiritual pilgrimages fervently promoted by the holy. birthed into a world where the pleasure principle is the main agenda, eternal damnation does not scare it out of what it knows.
despite it all, it finds itself unsettled and searching – searching along the white trails of cocaine, and in the deep seas of spirits. it finds the gateway of intoxication that brings forth new escapes, but new demons of addiction and a bodily demise. so the search continues..
it’s told of the treasure in the valleys of labia, and in the leaning tower of pisa. so the journey continues through many long nights, sometimes reaching into the morning and into the heat of the day. it finds the gems it has heard of -the gems that have been the downfall of great emperors, and the rise of empires. however, the treasures only lull it to sleep momentarily, but the restlessness continues to brew within..
it plants monetary green and invests in all kinds of seeds which reap a great worldly harvest. it finds that it can go anywhere, and it attain anything, yet everywhere it goes, and everything it attains does not bring an end to it’s search or journey.
born into a contaminated world, for some reason it continues its for a something it does not know; a purity it has never known yet feels it should have known. the lost soul searches with the vengeance of one that has been robbed, yet it has never owned. it searches for a home it has never lived in. so one can’t help but ask, “lost soul, how do you know you are lost when you have never been found?”
the lost soul responds, “i have a constant sense of disorientation even when i know my location. they say man is his own keeper, yet i seek to be kept. i seek a location that cannot be located, and i seek to be kept in a place that is not a place, and in the arms that are not of a person. i seek to indulge without indulgence. i’m in a constant search for purity for my unpure eyes, and for peace in a chaotic world.”