Pure White Soul

Glory to the silence

That sits calm.

But what about the

Quiet that rages within itself?

Glory to the light that

Shows colours.

But what about the

Brightness that blinds?

Glory to the voice

That expresses itself.

But what about the

Words too tired to come out?

Glory to the mind

That is all ears to the world.

But what about the

Opinions that are never formed?

Glory to the ground

That helps to stand up.

But what about the

Tangled roots pulling down?

Glory to the freedom

that opens up doors.

But what about the

Chaos that breaks compass?

There’s calm, There’s the rage

Within the same vacuum.

Then why expect me to be

A pure white soul?