Soul
Soul
Mind is full
House is empty
Decoding the life still
Living on the top of a hill.
No one to listen
No one to ask
Have lot to say
And much to know
Living with plenty space
In a room.
Want to rush in the morning hours
Demand a busy day
Take instructions and give guidance
Though no one around
Thinking in own way
Living along with wired life
In a garage stray.
Let this life end
All the hearing and listening
Will become quiet
People will make noises
By then soul is free
To roam
Living no where
Air is my abode.