I tried to find my soul.
Tried to find a way to feel whole.
Only to find out my goal,
couldn't be bought, but could be sold.
The soul isn't inside you to be found,
like a child playing hide and seek.
It's in everything you spread around,
everything you reveal and speak.
It cannot say inside you forever,
eventually you'll slip and let it leak.
The answer I've sought in my endeavour,
is that I shouldn't look inside of me,
but look at what I do for another.
Soul is the distinctions in all my fuck ups.
Soul is in the nature and themes of my ideas.
Soul is the infinitely undetermined changing of character.
My soul is wherever I want it to be,
whether it's pouring through the ink of a pen,
or subconscious ideas preparing to leave my head,
I've found it, disguised in the search.
How I've led on to be shown by my
& my goals,
All are elements of the thing I've been searching for.
And now that I'm off the path of insanity,
No longer needing an answer,
I am satisfied, now I can construct my soul,
I'll build it a valuable foundation,
to support every part of me I wish to hold.
So that it would be an enjoyable process,
and one worth searching for.