What am I to do?
I know not.
What does anyone do,
When with fright the world is fraught?
I can only be me,
That is all I am capable of doing.
Because the eyes with which I see,
They are my own, to me proving,
That life is strange and paths switch.
My feet are the ones that carry me,
My hands create, my tongue speaks.
This soul inside my body free,
Whose time is short as lifeblood leaks,
Day by day and year by year.
This soul has talents and gifts,
Yearning to be used without fear.
Talents by which my soul lifts,
Mundanity to passion and escape,
Leaving behind meaninglessness.
Arriving at knowledge to gape,
At my soul's intellect I confess.
She knew that all I am now,
Is all I ever need,
To live in this world anyhow.
The soul's knowledge one should heed.