The Soul in the Fishbowl.txt
Tis a soul, swimming in that metephorical fishbowl,
Living its life on the wings of strife.
To guide its path it seeks to suffer darkness's wrath.
Its suffering shielding, those who's weakness is unyielding.
One day truth will fill its sight, truth that light is dark as night.
The fools who claim to be righteous, all proven to be wretches.
Its heroes shown for villians, it passes to the winds.
That poor soul swimming round and round the fishbowl.
The lamp left on, hot as a sun,'
Dark cool night, held simply out of sight,
The waters of life seem to evaporate, death seems to celebrate.
The soul whithering in its fishbowl.
Suddenly cool, the waters rise in that pool.
A gentle hand guiding fingers through the water, like sticks through sand.
Life gains beauty, a simple fullfilling of karma's duty.
That lucky soul, happy in its fishbowl.
Around and round the pool swirls, life full of its dark pearls.
A new soul fills the bowl.
A new seeker on the path, now to suffer darkness's wrath.
Now the waters grow murky, in the swurl of life, so hurky jerky.