by Svalbard

Created on: November 16, 2008

Without the Soul

A shallow thought is never to be ignored.

A trick to undo the vain amongst us all.

In the sweet stench of sweat,

As the dance unfolds.

The pounding of the beat, the rhythm,

Confounds, drawing us ever deeper.

A sway and a move, sucks the breath.

It delivers us deeper into a trance.

I wonder at this turn.

Ever clear and ever deceiving.

It sickens the mind in the morn.

Process the thought, but do not...

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