The small window of a cell
The only freedom of the prisoner
He can see blue skies only
During the day, darkness at night
He can travel all the globe
Using his imaginations and dreams
But his fantasy is ever fading
Day by day to shrink and reduce
To that mere little light source
He has just hours in the dark walls
The body is a prison for the soul
It has imprisoned the happy free soul
The soul doesn’t know anything
About limits, borders, the material things
These are facts that only matter
To the body, mortal, confined in the time
When the soul is put in jail of the body
For such a long period of time, in the end
It forgets as a bird in the cage
The ability to fly free in the eternal sky
16:24, Friday, June 14, 2019
The image is my today’s drawing.
OMG π―π―π―π―% amazing.
I LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS SO MUCH.
ππππππ
I running late 2 work rereading this.
Fantastic
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Thank you for reading
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A solid vicarious experience through your poem. Keep writing!
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Thank you for your support
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True words. We have failed to understand ourselves, our true nature, and only identify ourselves with the body which is going to perish one day.
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Thank you
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