Soul,
you slippery thing,
where are you?

Could you be hiding
under the confidence
I placed on my good intent?

Are you lost in the mouth
of one of the many
applauding faithless men?

Have I not built a palace
with room enough
for all your gold?

Why have you left
without word of warning
and turned this quiet cold?

Soul,
you forsaken thing,
where are you?

I have bought the world for us to share.