A soul is not to be trifled with; being so much more than its frail body’s life.
How else would we overcome so much in the short beats we call our lives?
The force that pushes us in for the kiss is the same one we use when we lie.
It’s the source of random belly laughs & the source of all the tears we cry.
The courses that never ran smooth start their flow from lovelorn souls.
The strength we call on not to scream as our selves are cruelly raked o’er the coals.
Our soul is in & all around us. In the dark you can feel it tingling all about you in the quiet
A soul is not to be trifled with for it is much more than the carcass that abides it.
L.B.Stowe 