Unknown souls reside
in the most deserted places
such as the minds of the Parallel
and the hearts that bear the rebellion,
the agonizing shadows that stalk
behind the familiar faces.

Where the souls whom we do not know
finds places in the garden-like of Arcady
its rustic magnificence and endless streams.

The whitest marbles that mirror the true form
of one's self
the sculptures of liberty and honor
enchanted voices of wood nymphs
that serenades every heart's frightened.
The harmonious hands clasping together
souls traded their bodies for a one-way ticket
this is where the last train stops.

The mind seeks for the Parallel
when a desire craves,
it reaches down to the deepest pit
from where the tree reaches down to the lowest ground,
should its own branches reach the tallest clouds?

Behind the rushing blood
of spirits being awakened
should the deserted soul,
stride its feet in the garden of Arcady?