The idea I know is your own;
She’s your soul, and she’s your own,
But she dwells now in a different hall
Wearing willfully a different form.
Mind! you still own your dear soul;
Place, year of birth and your name
Visibly will hail you in the hall
My words and structure shall form.
If I feel too ghostly is your soul,
She should sit outside of my hall
With two guards on either of her side,
So passers-by know she’s your soul.
Copyright © June 22, 2019, Newton Ranaweera
Image source: Pixabay